Dimensional
by Fighter1357
Summary: SHIELD wasn't sure this boy was a threat. But Robin was pretty darn sure that SHIELD was a threat. Waking up strapped to a medical table was not a sign of friendship. And now that he's escaped, SHIELD will do anything to find him and bring him back. That is, unless Tony Stark has anything to say about it.
1. John Doe

**Title: Dimensional**

**Author: Fighter1357**

**Genre: Angst/Suspense**

**Category: Young Justice/ Avengers**

**A/N: Hi guys! I've been reading these crossovers and I love it! Decided to do my own. :) Hope none of you mind. My PM inbox is always open too!**

* * *

Nick Fury stood outside the Medical hall of the Helicarrier. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back and his one showing eye was trained on the figure that was laid across the medical table. It was a small boy, about twelve or thirteen years of age. He had ebony colored hair and pale but yet a gypsy tan that lay beneath the pale color. He was well muscled, and his body was marred by multiple scars. And that was before they found him on the side of a road. The boy couldn't have been more than thirteen, but yet his body looked liked someone has ripped it to shreds and then patched it back up. Large white lines covered his body, and old faded burns and marks were all over him. It was scary.

When they found him, he had obviously been brutally thrown on the side of a New York road, his body was marred with third degree burns and his back was bleeding badly. They'd taken him in and cleaned out the wounds, taking the bullet out had been a difficult task, but they managed. Fury had watched it all, his interest taking over of how this boy was.

The dubbed him "John Doe", because they didn't know his real name, or who he was. His Medical Bracelet said this. One Doctor was tempted to name him Jason Bourne, but Fury turned that down; claiming that John Doe fit better. The boy even looked like a John.

"What are you going to do with him?"

Fury turned, glancing at Agent Hill as she walked up and stood beside him.

"I have no idea. We'll keep him here till he wakes up and then take him to his family."

Agent Hill frowned and looked at Fury, her mouth twitched, and he frowned.

"But sir, does he even found one? No missing children have been reported. And the cloths we found him in. The tech in that suit was Stark-worthy, but Stark claimed to have never seen it. He was really… intrigued though," Hill inclined, her eyes wandering back to the boy.

Fury sighed and looked over at her, leaning against the glass walls. "Agent Hill, I don't know what we're going to do with him."

Hill frowned, which she seemed to be doing a lot of since she'd come to talk with him, and shook her head. She shifted her weight to her right foot, which was a bad habit of her's, and sighed. "Did they find anything… weird on him?"

"You think he's criminal?"

"No," she replied curtly, "I just think he might have something one him. There weren't any matches of his face on the database."

"He doesn't exist?"

"Nope. Not at all."

**_ To be continued…_**


	2. SHIELD

**Chapter Two: **

"A _kid?"_

Natasha nodded, her face serious. " A kid. They won't let me see him but I've heard from around that his body is badly marked up, third degree burns all over. They don't know what caused it, or how he got that way. They just found him."

Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk, frowned. As did Captain America, who had his arms crossed and was leaning against the counter. Both of them glanced at each other, feeling disappointed that SHIELD would keep a kid hostage. Steve felt a bit more irritated, thinking back to the good ole' days.

Clint looked up as he walked into the room, "Talking about the kid? I overheard. I have no idea what Fury's thinking. He's been asleep for weeks and all they can do is watch him."

Tony stood up, but his eyes lingered on the project he was working on. He'd been listening, obviously, but he had no idea what to say. "Why are they keeping him? Doesn't there so call tech have the ability to scan faces and identify people?"

"Yes," Natasha said slowly, shifting uncomfortably, "but for some reason, he doesn't exist."

The billionaire stepped forward, hands out as he looked at her with brown eyes. "But, he can't just not exist… people can't just not exist. He obviously exists, doesn't he? We just don't know who he is. If we can figure out who he is-"

Clint sighed, "We need to see him first, and we can't."

"Obviously," Tony scoffed, "but I do believe we had two master assassins here that can easily climb through vents. A genius who can hack SHIELD's systems and a Soldier who can fight extremely well and put up a, grudgingly sad, good argument.. I think we can see this boy."

Everyone glanced at each other, unsure of what to say. No one wanted to let this kid wake up in SHIELD's custody and the only way of doing that was getting him home. There was also the fact of who he was, which would be quite difficult if they didn't even know his name or where he belonged.

"We need to find some things else first. I mean, how in the world did SHIELD even find a twelve year old kid on the side of an abandoned New York road anyway?" Bruce asked, shifting slightly in his seat.

Natasha glanced at Clint, who looked away. If anything, those two would know. At the moment, it seemed they didn't.

"Well?" The Captain asked, staring at the assassins like they had to answer to everything.

"I'm not sure, we'd need the file and to get that… well, it's in Fury's personal stash, I've heard. Getting it would be like trying to get Loki to say "pink fluffy unicorns"," Natasha replied bluntly. Tony sighed, shaking his head.

It was funny to watch them all look at him like he was insane, and maybe he was, didn't matter. He had an idea. It wasn't too difficult to set up, really, he just needed to send in an undetectable program to bite through all of Fury's files. Hopefully the boys file would be in there like Natasha said. If anything, the worst that could happen would be the file wouldn't be there and they'd have to start over.

"I can make a program, undetectable, and set it in SHIELD's database to find the file. Anything to do with a kid, I'll download it into my personal desktop and then take out anything that doesn't have to do with _the _kid. When we got what's left we can analyze it, put the pieces together, and see if we can find out who he is, where he belongs and get him home."

Everyone stared at Tony, surprise etched on their faces.

"Are you feeling alright?" Natasha asked, putting her hand on his forehead.

He scowled and smacked her hand away, "Perfectly fine, thank you."

"Natasha, for a moment, calm down. Stark, if you could do this-"

"Which I can."

"-than that would mean going behind people's backs. Are you guys okay with this?"

"Very," Tony chirped.

Natasha and Clint both nodded. Bruce looked uncomfortable, and he shifted in his seat. While Stark Tower had a very nice lab and very comfy bar stools, he still felt awkward there. He knew the rest of the team did too, but it felt even worse as he thought of going behind people's backs. It just seemed… wrong. But he looked up into Steve's eyes and nodded, his shoulders slightly slumped.

* * *

Dick's eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was a bright light. He squinted his eyes until he got used to it. His azure eyes snapped open fully, and he looked around him, memorizing his surroundings. Batman taught him a lot, but the basics were always the easiest to remember.

He was obviously in a medical room, and it certainly wasn't the league's. While everything was white and grey, blue holograms were floating against the wall. Okay, certainly not the League. They did have holograms, but these looked different. He tried to lift his arm, but it was strapped tight to the Medical bed. He winced as the steel cut into his arm and a short whimper escaped his throat.

His skin felt… raw. He looked down and almost passed out. All over his body were brown marks where his skin has peeled from being burned. You could see he'd been cleaned up, and he silently thanked whoever had done it, but there were still area's where his skin was peeling. Three questions entered his mind; where was he? How did he get here? And why was he burned?

His mind began to panic. This wasn't the League. Cadmus? League of Shadows? Some other organization? His mind tried not to think of any Gotham villains who might want to trick him. If anything, his mind thought, it would be Scarecrow. He shivered at that thought. If he was in the hands of Scarecrow and was strapped to a med table, bad things would only follow.

And then the thought of _how did he get me? _entered his mind. His mind was fuzzy and unclear. He saw flashes, when he thought hard enough. He saw Artemis', which was charred and slightly burned. He heard some yelling, it sounded like M'gann. And she was… calling his name? He couldn't tell. He saw a lot of fire, a lot of red. Blood maybe? Or maybe it was just the fire. He felt smoke and… he screamed. He remembered screaming… a _lot _of screaming. What happened?

He just had those flashes, and nothing else. Heck, even his costume was gone and he was clothed in a white medical gown. Luckily it covered his… back too. He glanced around again. He saw two security camera's, one in the right corner behind him and another in the right corner in front of him. And with his suit gone, he had no chance of escaping. He laid his head back, and felt a soft plush cushion beneath him.

Closing his eyes, he tried to relax. But his mind wouldn't settle. He couldn't help but wonder where he was. Scarecrow? Joker? Maybe a Metropolis villain. He doubted the last one, but you never know. Sometimes Metropolis villains came over to Gotham because they thought that Batman would be easier. Boy, were they wrong.

He heard a door slid open then, but his eyes remained shut. His body froze.

"I know you're awake," a deep voice said. Robin still didn't move, he refused to.

"The camera's in the room told us. Wake up, boy."

He refused to sigh, because this seemed like the stereotypical villain to him, and he hated those guys. So… commanding, and highly annoying. Slowly opening his eyes, he was greeted with the view of a tall black man with an eye-patch. He wore black clothing and a long black trench coat, and his eye-patch covered his left eye. Hands clasped behind his back, and standing tall, Robin deduced that this man must have been ex-military or something of that sort.

Angry pirate looked pleased as he lifted his head and said, "Good, I'm glad you're cooperating. Do you know where you are?"

"No." Oh gosh, his voice was raspy, croaky. He blanched and shook his head. Angry pirate looked amused but also a little worried. Maybe he wasn't a villain, either way, he didn't like the situation. No good guy strapped people to a medical table… except Batman. And sometimes Flash. Or Batman to Flash, either way…

"How you got here?"

"No."

Angry pirate sighed and turned away, facing the holograms. He began typing furiously, not saying a thing. Robin could hardly see over the man's broad shoulders. He could see a name.

SHIELD.

Who the crap was SHIELD? Robin had never heard of them. Were they another Lab Facility? If they were, that would be bad. Robin didn't exactly have a good record with Labs and being stuck to medical tables. The last time that happened his mind had been wiped and he had been de-… well, no specifics. Bad memories either way.

"Who is SHIELD?" he asked, glancing at Angry Pirate with a furious gaze. His mask was gone, which he noticed right away, along with the light, and this thought made him more panicked. He pulled at the steel constraints silently, but nothing happened.

Angry Pirate turned around and looked at him with an amused expression. Robin couldn't tell what that meant. Either Angry Pirate was surprised, or amused, or in shock. "You don't know who SHIELD is?"

"No idea. Why am I here? How did I get here? Why am I strapped to a table? Who are you? Why am I burned? What's with the eye-patch? One of your camera's is down and are you the bad guys?"

Angry Pirate's eye-brows went up, as if in surprise. But then he turned back to the Holograms and began to type in once more. Robin still couldn't see what Pirate was typing, and he was pretty sure Angry Pirate wanted to keep it that way.

"Why are you here? Well, you're hurt, as you can see. You got here because we found by an explosive energy signature. Caused all the power in the surrounding area to go off for ten minutes. We came by to see where it came from. It came from you. As for being strapped to a table, you might be dangerous. My name is Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. I'm guessing fire burned you. Reasons. I'll check that out later and no, we're the good guys."

Robin had a feeling he would either love this guy, or hate this guy.

_**To be continued...**_


	3. Escape

**Chapter 3: **

"How's that program coming along?" Natasha leaned over Tony's shoulder, staring at the screen as if she could read all the numbers and variables that was going on inside of it.

"Almost done. We just need to plug it in to a computer in the Helicarrier and wa-la! It'll start working it's way to Fury's computer. If they manage to trace it, it'll trace back to the computer we plugged it in to. The files will download into the flash drive and then you just have to take it out, got it?"

"Stark, this is probably the most simplest mission I'll ever do."

"Hack into SHIELD?"

"Most certainly."

Tony nodded and then slipped out the USB Stick. He handed it to the assassin, who handled it as if it were contagious, and she slipped it into her pocket. Standing up straight, she walked over to the large sectional couch that sat in the center of the tower's top floor.

"I'll be back soon," the Russian said, walking out the door with a slight smirk on her face. Pepper walked by and gave the redhead a wave. Natasha waved back, always slightly surprised that someone would be so nice.

"Tony, you missed a meeting today."

"I thought _you _were the CEO of Stark Industries…"

Pepper walked forward, looking highly unamused. She hadn't been in the Tower in a long time, but the few times she had been it was nice. And she rarely got to see Tony anymore, which greatly irritated her. She smirked at him and sat down next to Steve, who was looking between the two as if contemplating whether of not he should make a run for it.

"I am. But you, Anthony, _own _the company. Which means you do still have to show up to meetings, at the very least."

Tony pouted, pouring her some Schnapps, but then grinned. "Sorry, I was creating a program to hack into SHIELD's systems." Steve smiled at Pepper's horrified expression. It was highly amusing to watch them. Like a tennis match they would go, back and forth and back and forth.

"Tony!"

"Pepper," Tony said in a serious voice, causing her to really look at him, "SHIELD has child, a boy, held… hostage? I'm not sure how to put it, but they have him. We're going to try and get him home."

"Well… that's good," Pepper said slowly, "But are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe SHIELD has a reason-"

"Whatever that reason is," Steve cut in, "it must be pretty damn good to keep a child there."

* * *

Robin rubbed his wrists, wincing as his skins met the burnt marred browned skin. He bit his lip and looked up at Director Nick Fury. So far, he'd been moved to a medical room to an interrogation room. He was sitting in a metal chair, his elbows were propped up against a metal table, and Fury sat across from him on a metal stool. The room was made of steel, and a large door was directly behind Fury, which greatly irritated him.

He knew that getting past the Fury would be tough, really tough. But he's take on guys bigger than Angry Pirate; Bane, for example.

"What is your name?" Fury asked, leaning across the table.

"John."

"What is your full name?"

"…John… Richards. John Richards."

Fury frowned, one eyebrow popped up. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive."

"Alright, _John. _Tell me, where are you from?"

"Gotham City, I'm surprised you've never seen me before."

Fury inspected him curiously, and crossed his arms, suddenly leaning back. Robin's slightly smirk fell and his azure eyes pierced Fury's. Robin couldn't help but feel that Fury wasn't telling him something, or maybe that the way Fury had reacted to Gotham City was bad. What happened?

"Gotham City? Never heard of it. Kid, is this some kind of joke to you?"

Robin's face deadpanned and he feel back in the seat. Robin himself couldn't see it, but he looked devastated as Fury said this. His eyes feel for just a second but then he looked back up with a hardened glare. He stood upward, his palms resting on the cold metal.

"What are you talking about!?" He snarled, "Of course it does! Gotham City, you've never heard of it!?"

Fury kept his cool, leaning only slightly further back than before. Robin was breathing heavily. His eyes, Fury couldn't help but noticed, had seen things worse than any other child before. The boy physically, except for the scars and burns, thirteen or twelve but mental, spiritually, he must've been as old as Fury himself.

"I said, I've never heard of it. Tell me about Gotham."

"John" hesitated and stared at Fury skeptically. He didn't know what to think about this whole ordeal. "Gotham," "John" started slowly, "is one of the worst cities in America. Worst crime rate, besides Bludhaven of course, it's home of-" John froze a moment, his eyes rising to meet Fury's.

He suddenly sprung up, taking the SHIELD Director by surprise. Springing forward he jumped up, using Fury's head as a spring board. He slipped a small credit card like object from the man when they had entered this room and now that he looked at it closely he could see it was an identification card. He slipped it through a card slot and narrowly dodged Fury's attempt to grab him. On the outside, he slipped the card through another slot, which closed the door and locked Fury in there. He spun around, only to be created with two SHIELD Agents.

Springing forward he kicked one in the stomach. He rebounded back, and did a backflip to where his feet touched the door. Using that as a spring board he lunged himself at the other guy. They fell forward and Robin flipped the guy over his head, and threw him into the ceiling. He then grabbed the other guy by the cuff of his neck and threw him into the computer. The man whimpered but then feel onto the floor. Robin took him by the shoulders and propped him up against the wall.

Walking over to the computers he saw a security camera of inside the Interrogation room with Fury. The man looked pissed. Good. He than began to search for where his suit may be. He began to look through the files on the computer. He read all the information on SHIELD. Who they were, what they did. It was impressive. He wolf whistled at some of their secrets. He stored them for later and then clicked on a map of the so called "Helicarrier".

It was pretty much a large floating ship. Robin loved it. But when he found a file on him, he read it all pretty quickly. John Doe. Hm. Interesting. He read where they put his suit, after they finished picking it apart. Scowling at the picture of it, he exited out and deleted everything that had to do with him.

Turning around, he jumped up to the vents and began to make his through SHIELD.

* * *

"What do you remember?" Batman asked Kid Flash roughly, looming over him and casting a large bat shadow over the teen. Kid Flash scrunched back, his green eyes looking anywhere else but the bat.

The team felt sorry for Wally and their sympathetic faces showed it too. The red-head was leaning back into the green couch, Batman and Wonder Woman stood over him. Wonder Woman had her no-nonsense face on, and Batman's cowl and scowl seemed more darker than usual. Wally didn't really know what to say, but he did. He remember exactly what happened. So did the rest of the team.

_Flash Back: _

_"Robin! Be careful!" Aqualad yelled, pulling the young boy by his cape just as a hail bullets zipped past them. Robin blanched and then grinned at their leader._

_"Right, sorry," he apologized, his face going red. Aqualad's facial expression softened and he gave a slight nod of the head toward the younger boy and then turned away, jumping to assist Artemis with a bunch of men. That's when the explosion rocked the field. Fire and wind blew everyone back, the grass began to kindle and smolder and then a blaze of yellow and red burst out all over the field. Robin tired to pick himself up but he couldn't. _

_His body felt warm but it began to get hotter and hotter. He was on fire. His mind told him not to panic, that his costume was fire proof. But the problem was that his suit was ripped to shreds. An assassin seemed to enjoy the idea of cutting him up. So everywhere he wasn't covered, was burning. Flames licked his body and he screamed, falling down on the floor. He opened his eyes momentarily and saw Artemis leaning over him, her face burned and charred and covered with soot. _

_"Robin!" M'gann's screech echoed across the field, but she didn't enter his vision. _

_He groaned and soon Artemis disappeared. She'd looked up a moment and her eyes widened with terror. She drew an arrow and jumped over him. His body was still burning, and it _ached_. He could feel blood trickling down his mouth and his vision was lined with red and yellow. So much red. Way to much yellow. He resisted the urge to scream, but the horrifying, antagonizing scream ripped from his throat. _

_And then he felt a pain in his arm. A sharp, nasty pain that ripped through the skin of his right arm. Great, first he was on fire and then he had a bullet wound. His screaming stopped and he felt… weightless. He opened his eyes, being greeted with darkness and black. The fire was gone, but the pain in his arm was still there. _

_Suddenly, he was dropped on the cold ground. He groaned and rolled over. He carefully opened his eyes. There wasn't much to see; the fire was gone though, so that was good. He saw… a woods? There hadn't been any woods around, they'd been in a field. It was dark, and cold. Was it snowing? That couldn't be right, it was only August. His eyes began to flutter, and his head rolled over to the side. And he fell asleep. _

_End of Flash Back. _

"That's it, he just disappeared," Artemis inclined, shrugging helplessly. She had ran over to get the burning fire over him out, and then she saw another one of those assassin's. This one looked more threatening than the other, which only had a sword. This one wore black spandex and a combat suit. A gas mask was over it's face, making it look alien, and it's red hair flailed everywhere. She'd taken one last glance at Robin and then lunged at the assassin, just to make sure that it wouldn't hurt her little brother.

The assassin had taken multiple shots in Robin's direction, but she'd made sure that none of them hit him. She was sure none did, but considering the last time she'd seen Robin was when she had looked down at him, she didn't know.

As Artemis relayed this information to Batman, the others looked even more downcast.

"Is that it?"

"That's my side of the story," the blonde archer replied grimly. He nodded and then turned to the others. They had each taken turns to explain what happened to Robin. Batman seemed to appreciate the gesture (not that they could tell), but it didn't explain where Robin was. They'd gotten all those thugs and assassins, they were in Justice League's holding cells, ready to be transported out via Javelin, so none of them could have possibly taken Robin.

"I do remember feeling this strange… energy signature around the time Robin disappeared," M'gann responded slowly, rubbing her left arm with her right hand. She flipped some hazel hair out of her face and smiled a bit in encouragement toward the Batman, who looked interested.

"What did it feel like?" he asked, turning and swiping his hand across the air, a hologram appeared.

"I felt… nausea and a little cold. I do remember, and I have no idea why I didn't think of this before, there was a green flash of light just before I realized Robin was gone."

Batman nodded and he looked at Wonder Woman, who was still stoically standing there with her arms crossed. "Diana, do you know what happened to the assassin's weapons?"

Diana Prince, aka Wonder Woman, frowned. She shifted her weight to her right foot and then began to nod slowly. "Yes, I believe we took them to Flash and Green Arrow so they could take them apart. Why?"

"I have reason to believe that maybe one of the weapons one of the assassin's was using may have a) either sent Robin somewhere or b) completely neutralized him. I'm going with a and saying perhaps a weapon that one of the assassin's was carrying."

"Makes sense," Wonder Woman mused, "It's like that one time with Morgan Le Fay-"

"I thought we agreed never to talk about it."

"Fair enough. Should I call Green Arrow?"

"Yes, ask the status on how they're taking them apart. We have to stop them. If they take apart the weapons, it'll take even longer to get them back together."

"Right."

* * *

Robin lifted to crate open and smirked. His suit was ripped to shreds, and slightly charred, but his belt, mask and all his weapons were there. He pulled the mask and his belt out. He looked around and then down at the medical dress. Pulling a capsule out of his belt, he popped it open. It held a pair of civilian clothes that grew as the slid from the capsule. He ripped off the capsule and slid his clothing on. Sliding a beanie over his head and jumped back into the vents and began to make his way to the Jet's.

He was going to find out what's wrong.

Now.


	4. Hero

**Chapter 4: **

Robin crawled carefully through the vents. The room was filled with Falcon 360s', which he was surprised to see, a few SHIELD pilots were hanging around them, conversing about Christmas. Robin shook his head, how had the date changed? It didn't matter, he thought, he'd find that small detail out later but right now he needed to get into one of those jets. Bruce had taught him to fly two types of Jets. The Falcon 360 and the Air Height 76; they were so simple, Robin was surprised that this large agency, SHIELD, would have these jets. Maybe these were just carrier jets and the actual fighter jets were somewhere else.

Grinning, he slipped the vent grate off the hinges and slid it next to him. He then shimmied out and hopped down from above. He landed silently on the steel floor, a small whoosh of his civvies making only a small sound. He was barefoot at the moment and the fifteen foot drop had been nothing compared to some of the stuff he did when he was back in Gotham and Joker had taken his boots. Flipping to some crates, probably filled with weapons, he shrunk down behind them and peeked over to the side. He winced as his feet hit the bare cold floor, but he gritted his teeth and put it in the back of his mind.

The men hadn't moved, still laughing and talking about something. Shaking his head, Robin began to sneak toward the closest jet. The thing looked brand new, as if it just came from the factory and he was pretty sure that it hadn't been flown yet. He leapt upward, grabbing a handle on the wing, and flipped himself over so he was sitting on the top of it. The roof of the jet was already open and he slipped in, shrinking down just a bit so he wouldn't be seen.. Obviously, once he turned it on he'd have to throw down the top and then he'd have to quickly steer it out of there.

He looked at all the controls and realized they were in different places than the ones he knew. He felt a sense of panic, but then he realized he was a bat and that it would be alright. Life happened. Maybe this was some big prank.

He found the 'on' switch and flicked it with his finger. Pulling the top down as the engine roared, he watched as the SHIELD agents turn around with surprised faces. They jumped out of the way as he steered the jet down the runway, flicking safety switches and everything that needed be. They cried out, but he kept his face hidden with the beanie. He clicked the button that must've opened the door to the open air because a large panel of the wall slid open, revealing clouds and a an array of sunlight.

He sped up, clicking and flicking up switches and buttons. The wheels began to extract into the jet, and he zipped out into the clear blue sky. He grinned and glanced back at the Helicarrier, eyes suddenly going wide when he realized how large it was. He'd seen the model and the scales, but he didn't exactly have time to put all the proportions in check. He began to lower the jet, and passed through a misty cloud. He blinked as it suddenly all dusted away.

There was New York city.

Or, at least, he thought it was New York. It looked… different. There was rubble everywhere, and different buildings. The building he saw every time he had been in New York where either not there, somewhere else, or taller and differently shaped. It was New York, but it wasn't. He scowled and tilted the jet upward, trying not the get in NYC Air space.

* * *

Natasha was thoroughly confused.

She'd plugged the flash drive in, and then waited for the light to go green. When it didn't go green for a while she'd began to sing Russian lullabies. And after that she began to hum One Direction, to which she began to face plant multiple times everytime the lyrics worked their way into her head. After about thirty minutes, she'd glanced down and saw the green light. She flicked the disc out and logged off the SHIELD computer.

And now here she was staring at the screen that said 'Empty Disc: Would You Like To Transfer Files Onto This Disc?'. Tony was breathing very heavily and it looked like he would murder her. Clint looked unsurprised, knowing her expertise on computers was low. Thor stood there with a blank looked on his face and Steve looked about the same as always. Bruce was pacing and biting his lip, shaking his head occasionally.

"Natasha," Tony said in a deadly calm voice, "Why aren't there any files?"

She leaned back, letting her arms fall to her side as she answered. "Um, I'm not sure." Sure, she was really very close to saying that maybe it was Tony's disk that messed up, but he looked close to punching her face into a brick wall, not that he could, so she decided not to say anything.

"You're not sure!?"

"Well, I saw the light flick on green! It downloaded something!" Natasha replied, quickly defending herself.

Tony clicked on a few things, his eyes flashing over the screen faster than would have thought possible. "Well obviously not," he growled, "The disk is empty."

She rolled her eyes and stepped back. "What now, then?"

"I say we interrogate Fury!" Clint called out. Everyone turned to find him on the couch with a Laffy Taffy sticking out of his mouth.

"No," Bruce deadpanned, "I saw we wait. Good things come to those who wait, right?"

No one said anything, but Tony's shoulders slumped as he realized that this was their next best option.

* * *

**(This next part goes to the song by Yann Tiersen _La Chute)_**

* * *

Robin, or John Richards, weaved his way through the crowd of New Yorkers. He kept his head low, and his eyes to the ground. He looked like a regular teenage boy and he'd been stopped more than once because people wanted to know why he wasn't in school. One thing about New York he did like, people were nicer than in Gotham.

He slipped by a fruit stand, snatching a small apple from it. He bit into the apple, his teeth sliding through the skin and into the tasty fruit. The first thing he had to do was find out where and when he was. What was the year, time and date? First thing you always looked for when you didn't know where you were. You went from there next. He walked past a newspaper stand and glanced down, his blue eyes glinting in the grey sunlight. He didn't see the large picture of the Avengers or of the Hulk that were glinting brightly in the afternoon winter sun.

December 18th, 2012.

He blinked, but kept on going. Last he checked it was May 6th of 2013. New years eve was gone and he was still a thirteen year old boy. Rocket was away with Icon the last battle, and Zatanna was still there. They'd been together ever since they'd kissed on New Years Eve. Not that Batman approved of it, but what could he do? They two teens obviously loved each other. Not that that was important, he thought. What was important was the matter at hand.

Okay, he shook his head, slipping past a Police Officer with his head ducked, then it was December, that explained the cold air. There was slush on the ground too, and everyone was wearing heavy coats and scarves. Either way, he thought, that didn't really help him. How was he supposed to go from there? He needed a base of operations, he realized, gritting his teeth, which wouldn't be easy to acquire. It seemed that SHIELD had a lot of impact here, unlike the League who really stayed out of the people's business.

Okay. So SHIELD was an organization who was pretty much the worlds protectors, like The Justice League but they didn't have any… super powered people. Batman and he weren't meta-humans, neither was Artemis or Green Arrow, but a lot of the League was made up of meta-humans and aliens. Then SHIELD was like… an agency. Right, they _were_ SHIELD Agents. He snorted, sliding into an alley and behind a trash can as a few officers walked by. He had to avoid being seen by anyone who might have any influence in this city. Cops and rich people.

"Alright," he mumbled, "SHIELD equals enemy. Just how much of an enemy?"

He wasn't exactly sure what to do now, he certainly wasn't old enough to get an apartment. He could go to school, but that'd be no fun. He had to get back, anyway. A sudden thought popped into his head. He felt dread and a sudden feeling like he knew exactly what had happened. He tried to reject the shivers that crawled down his spine.

He knew where he was. And he had no clue how to get back home. He, Richard John Grayson, was in an alternate dimension.

A sudden scariness gripped his heart. Would he ever see the League again? The Team? Babs? What about Bruce? He sighed, wiping away a tear that had slid out onto his cheek. He remembered when it was his first winter at the Manor and he'd gone outside in the middle of a snow storm. He'd never seen snow before and the mesmerizing whiteness that had flooded over him had intrigued the young genius to no end.

Memories flocked his mind but he shrugged and brushed them away, pulling himself into an empty alleyway. He slid down against the brick building, beginning to sob. He was still just a kid, not matter how many times he had denied it because the team was worried about him. How was he forced into this hell of a life? Death, he thought. And Bruce. Not that he would ever blame his surrogate father about this, but he had brought him into this life. He wiped the tears away with the sleeve of his jacket, his thoughts stopping short, allowing him to only think of the moment he was in. Dick felt a mental pain twist in him, something deep in his stomach that ripped up his spine and into his head. He winced as everything came flooding back.

The fight. And yet, here he was; curled up in an Alternate New York City, wiping tears away, and worried thoughts twisting around in his mind. Snow began to fall around him, little flurries that soon turned into much larger flakes. A cold air furled into the alley, chilling his skin, almost like it was biting any exposed flesh. He winced, tucking his hands under his arms, and turned around, putting his back to the wind.

A base of operations. That would very, very hard to get. He knew SHIELD wasn't going to help him, like they would believe him in the first place. And as far as he knew, there was no one else. He was in a world without heroes. Well, at least developed heroes. As far as he knew, there were none or at least very, very new.

A grin actually slipped onto his face. He was a hero. Maybe not here, but maybe he could be.

_**To be Continued…**_

* * *

**A/N: I am sorry for such a short chapter! I really am! Not nearly as much as I wish. But I wanted to get this out there. Warning: I have BIG, HUGE plans for this story. There will be a major twist in this story. **

**While this twist may not be liked by many of you, I'm doing two versions of this story. One where two different outcomes happen. The original and then the alternate one, the one that may be liked the most. I'm skeptical of sharing, so yeah… **

**With love, **

**-Fighter1357**


	5. Vigilante?

**Heyo!**

**How you all? **

**Did you survive the apocalypse? I did, though… there was a shooting threat at my school and 905 students didn't show up on Friday. I mean, wow. Yikes. **

**Anyway, on wit da story! **

* * *

**WEEK 1, DAY 1**

* * *

Robin's Base of Operations right now was an abandoned row house in the Bronx, right by an old, abandoned and dilapidated church. The house itself wasn't actually so bad. The front yard was dotted with yellow and white weeds and crabgrass grew in green splotches against the tan dirt. A run down white fence separated the yard from a cracked sidewalk. The house was three stories tall, with a sunken in porch with rotted wood and moldy spots over it. The door was slightly off it's hinges and was painted, or had once been painted, a sunny yellow. The cement house must've been a cheerful light blue-gray but even that had gone into a faded, overcast gray with dead ivy vines knotted into it. The windows were boarded up and cracked glass lay strewn on the porch.

The inside, however, was slightly better. An old furnace was in the living room and even some old, moth bitten furniture was left. The kitchen didn't have a fridge and there was a hole in the south wall, but Dick had taken some old, albeit worn, blankets and covered it up. The structure itself was rather sturdy but when the wind was blowing hard, it battered the place, send shocks through the wooden beams, some of which exposed, that allowed them to shaky noisily. Dick had taken to getting a table and computer in here. The software wasn't the best, but after finding a RadioShack, he was working on that a bit. Building up a firewall and creating a better battery and system to operate with. He had dubbed the living room, with it's peeled golden wallpaper and blanket covered holes "The Second Batcave".

It was cold during the night, because, honestly, it was winter in New York but with the blankets covering up any holes and with moving the old couch closer toward the furnace, which he could turn on with out and main power system, he could be rather warm. He had to redo the electrical system in the house, creating a new route from a power line just down the street. The thing was supplying a nightclub with a large amount of power and Dick was sure they wouldn't mind if he borrowed it.

Of course, after being here a few days, he had gotten some new clothes and some food, which he had to steal and wasn't too happy about. His Robin costume was folded delicately under some of the floor boards, in a hidden niche he had found by mistake.

From his computer, he worked on finding out about SHIELD and tried to be as discreet about it as possible. He was untraceable as he worked, and if SHIELD picked anything up, the trail would lead back to a house in Maryland.

* * *

Dick woke up to a cold chill on his back. His eyes snapped open as he heard a slight creaking sound, like someone trying to climb down the stairs, which he had avoided because they looked far too unstable. He hadn't even gone upstairs yet, and he didn't want too, because there was a hole in the dining room ceiling so he could see up into what must've been a bathroom. He carefully drew his covers from his body, grabbing a small knife he had under his makeshift pillow. He crept up toward the foyer, slowly peeking around the corner to see who was either going up the stairs or down it.

It was an orange tabby cat. The had stopped and turned to stare at Dick with emerald eyes that reminded him painfully of Wally. He lowered the knife and stepped out from behind the wall. Grinning, he picked up the scrawny cat before it could dash away. The cat howled, a shrill sound that would make you cringe. Dick laughed and set the cat down. It bolted almost immediately but then stopped and turned, brushing past Dick's leg.

"Hm, what are you doing?" he asked, watching as the cat disappeared behind the wall. He followed it curiously and laughed as it jumped up onto the couch and sat there, staring at him. It's ribs were showing through it's bright, fiery orange fur. The cat meowed loudly.

"You want food, eh?" Dick asked, coming closer to set next to the cat. He began to scratch it's back and head and the cat purred softly. The cat meowed again.

"You remind me of Wally, you know," he said, "You seem to really want some food. But, I guess if I was that skinny I would too." As a matter of fact, Dick was growing skinnier. He strongly disliked stealing and had so far only taken slightly old apples and a few banana's. They kept him going for about two hours and then he would have to wait until morning to eat again. It wasn't so bad, his body was getting used to not eating as much, but it hurt when he exercised and trained. He was tired faster because the stuff that he was eating wasn't enough. Still, he thought, it was better than nothing.

"Now, I know you won't like apples, will you?"

The cat's meow vaguely sounded like a 'no' to Dick. He sat up, watching from the corner of his eye as the cat followed him. He grabbed a coat that he had found in the trash, a rather nice coat because he'd gotten it from a dumpster on Park Avenue. He snatched another apple and walked outside onto the rackety porch. The cat followed him.

"Come on, Sir Wallace!" Dick exclaimed, sounding vaguely like a small child would. He walked down the steps of the house and out onto the yard. The cat trotted by his heels, it's soft, padded feet only making the slightest whisper as the walked along the sidewalk, passing the rest of the row homes. This New York was different than his New York, just like he noticed before. In the distance, he could see Manhattan with its bright, shiny office building. A little bit closer, he could see a Drug dealer nervously pacing the sidewalk, glancing along with hollowed, haunted eyes. Snow had begun to fall and Dick cursed Jack Frost, having hoped that the snow had stopped. The flakes came down large and slow, falling gently on the surrounding area. Eventually, it had gotten windy too and when Dick turned back to look for the cat, he found that it was barely keeping up with his fast pace. Stopping, he stooped low and picked the cat up. He tucked it beneath his jacket, close to his body, and then continued to walk. It purred, albeit the probably uncomfortable position it was in.

Dick had eventually reached a bit more populated area and as he turned the corner he was swept into the crowd.

* * *

"I don't quite understand how you can lose a kid?" Natasha asked, slamming her fist against the counter. Bruce and Pepper both winced at the venom in her voice and even Clint, who knew Natasha well enough, slid his seat over a bit more.

"He's just gone?"

Tony shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee and then set it down on the table. "Personally, I don't think there's much left we can do. If SHIELD lost a kid, how are going to be able to find him. He completely wiped away his existence on the ship and then made it look like there was something there so my USB would pick it up. This kid was trained, obviously, by someone good. No, not just good; great. He's had experience with technology, anyone can tell that, I just don't see how he's able to… do that, even if it is SHIELD." Tony tapped his chin in thought, his eyes suddenly gaining a far away look. Everyone stared at him for a bit, not able to think of anything else to say.

"So, um, are you saying that we stop looking for him?" Captain asked, his voice incredulous as he stared at Tony, who nodded.

"Yes, and before you say anything it's because this kid is trained. And he's trained well enough to hide from SHIELD, I bet you they're already looking for him. If we start too, we won't look like friends, we'll look like hunters and I don't think this kid needs that."

There was a pause.

"That… Tony is right," Bruce said, taking a step forward, "Going after him is a bad idea. We should wait until he's desperate to find someone. How old was he anyway?"

Natasha shrugged. "From the rumors on the Helicarrier, about twelve, thirteen."

Everyone pretty much shook there heads. Who would train a child like that? He must've been so young…

Tony perked up, trying to forget what Black Widow had just said. "Bruce, let's go down to the lab. We need to investigate that massive energy signature that SHIELD has failed to really pay attention to."

Bruce nodded and then they both disappeared down to the elevator.

* * *

Dick had returned to his abode by late after noon. He'd given up on finding a newspaper stand when the snow had gotten more sharper and smaller and the wind had start to blow him over. The cat was still with him, curled up in a ball and surrounded by blankets. Dick himself had a blanket draped over his shoulders and his teeth were chatting from the cold. The furnace was turned up, of course, but he had to keep hanging up blankets over the holes and windows because the wind was so hard. It shook the building. A few times, Dick had to swipe dry wall and pieces of wallpaper from his keyboard.

He was working on a virus to help him hack SHIELD's system. His computer had gotten an upgrade and using some technology from someplace called Stark Industries, he modified it so that it now obeyed his every whim. The tech was good, really good and Dick rather liked it. It was easy to use and it reminded him of Wayne Tech. He wasn't even halfway completed with the virus to eat through SHIELD systems, but it was looking pretty good as he worked on it. Creating wall after wall and bug after bug and password after password to create the perfect parasite. He smirked at the thought of surprising the Agency, because he had grown to strongly dislike them.

Very much.

* * *

**WEEK 1, DAY 3**

Dick was almost done with the parasite. He was so proud of his work and he knew that if Bruce was there, he would be too.

His heart still hardened with pain when he thought of the team and Bruce and Alfred and Babs. He knew that they were missing him too. He'd been gone a only a few days and he knew that Batman would stop at nothing to get him back. Still, even as he worked on the parasite, just as he had been for the past two days, he couldn't help but feel a bit lost. There was no one to take care of him and he still didn't have any food or money. He didn't keep any money in his Robin costume because he had no need for it in such. He was skinner now, and he feel asleep so much easier than when he'd been back home in Gotham. He hadn't really thought about being Robin in the new world, but the thought had crossed him mind. Of course, he would only tire himself out because he wouldn't get money for it. Still, the thought had wrapped itself around his mind and wouldn't leave. He tried not to look at it with his sunken in, tired eyes, but it was still there, telling him he should follow it. People would do something, whether it be love him or hate him, he didn't know.

"No," he muttered to himself, "Concentrate." He turned back to his parasite and thought about how yesterday, in a fit of glee, he had named it Sir Alleandro Andreas Virgil Montoya II. On his computer, the file was dubbed AAVMII. Having turned back to the computer, he didn't realize that in Earth-16, it hadn't been a few days, just like it had here.

He didn't realize what was going to happen, or what was in his future.

* * *

**EARTH-16**

* * *

M'gann was still curled up in a ball on the couch, Connor's arm draped over his shoulders. She wasn't crying anymore, but her green cheeks were stained with the tear tracks. It had only been two hours since Robin had disappeared.

Wally was taking it better than the team would have thought, but he was still a mess. Artemis was comforting her boyfriend, telling him that Robin could take care of himself and that they would see him soon, that they would find him soon. Wally was nodding along with her words, unsure of what to say. He didn't cry, he didn't yell out in a fit of anger, he didn't even sit there quietly. He replied back to his girlfriend, replying back to her with soft, hushed words. Sometimes, it sounded like he was comforting her more than she was him.

Aqualad and Zatanna were both sitting in the kitchen. Zatanna was crying and eating vanilla ice cream filled with vanilla wafer crumbs, not even thinking that it was Robin's favorite. Aqualad hadn't spoken really, unable to contemplate how much it was his fault. He should have stopped something, done something different, or at least maybe jumped in front of Robin. But he couldn't because he was in the opposite side of the battlefield. He had let his team down, he let Robin down.

"You know," Wally spoke up, "He's still alive."

"Of course he is," Zatanna yelled with a mouthful of ice cream an vanilla wafers. Everyone looked at her oddly and she stared at them just as incredulously.

"He can't die," Wally continued. "But he's Robin and he's a bat."

"And he's human," Artemis said, a grinning spiking up on her face, "And regular humans now how to freaking survive."

"And he wouldn't die just because he got shot," the ginger went on, "He would be all "screw you" and just live and then keep on living like nothing happened, because that's Robin and that's what he does. And he's still living, wherever he is, and he's recovering and he's going to come back."

M'gann smiled, wiping some tears away, and nodded with Connor.

He was Robin, and he just wouldn't leave like that.

* * *

**WEEK 1, DAY 5 10:45 PM**

Richard Grayson was still awake. Today, he'd stolen five apples, some bread from a French bakery shop and two water bottles from a ratty convenience store. It hadn't even been that had and there hadn't even been any thrill to it. He asked Catwomen one time what made her steal and she replied it was the thrill of sneaking around and getting the item. Hardly ever, for her, she explained, was she ever truly after the item, she just liked the thrill of having something that didn't belong to her in her hands, in her grasp to do with whatever she wished.

Robin hadn't asked her such questions since.

Still, maybe it was just because he was stealing food and not a million dollar item. He had eaten everything in ten minutes, albeit leaving a few apples so that he could have some for later. And now, he was pulling on his Robin costume. He grabbed the Batarangs and grappling's and rope and pellets and explosives and arranged them in his belt. His costume was on now and he strapped his gloves to his hands and placed the belt on his waist. A laugh bubbled from his throat, escaping his lips. Soon enough, he wasn't laughing quietly anymore, a joyous laugh was now echoing around the house and shaking the foundation strongly. He jumped up and did a flip and once he landed he jumped over to the dining room and did a gigantic leap up into that old bathroom, climbing up the window and making his way to Manhattan.

* * *

**NEW YORK TIMES**

**VIGILANTE? **

Robin was leaning over the building, staring down at the robbers with a trained eye. He watched as they fumbled with the bags, trying to keep them closed. Narrowing his eyes behind the mask, he jumped down on the ground, landing on the balls of his feet with bent knees. He stood up, moving and using the shadows to his advantage. He leapt from shadow to shadow, the darkness welcoming him like an old friend. He watched them yell at each other in hush whispers and exaggerated gestures.

He waited. One second… two seconds… three seconds…

He cackled. Both men froze, glancing fearfully around.

"I wouldn't do that!" Robin yelled out, cursing as his voice cracked ever so slightly. And then he cackled again.

**A YOUNG BOY?**

"A demon!" one man shrieked, dropping the bag to run. Just as the bag hit the ground and money spilled out, Robin quickly threw a blunt Batarang at the man, causing him to fall over on the ground, unconscious, and the Batarang clatter on the sidewalk. The other man had backed back against the back, the sirens were ringing from the inside, but he was too scared right now. Robin stepped into the light, smirking as he saw the man take him in. He knew that in a moment the man would laugh and underestimate him and then try to take him, it would be a big mistake.

**...STOPPED A BANK ROBBERY...**

"Hello," he sneered, his lips curling up in a smile.

The man lunged at him, crying out in anger for his buddy.

Robin rolled back into the ground and once the man was right over him he pushed up with his hands and hit the man in the gut with his legs, using the mans momentum to throw him to the ground. The mans head cracked against the sidewalk. Despite the little bit of blood, Robin dragged the man back to the first one. He leaned them up against the back and made sure they were unconscious. He then glanced at the money bags.

He tried to resist the temptation, he really did, but he was getting tired of only apples and pears and banana's to eat. He snatched a thousand dollars and then left a small card by the two men. He glanced down the street, where police sirens were ringing and red and blue flashes of light were flashing from. Just as they turned the corner, he flicked his wrist upward and shot the grappling gun into the sky.

And disappeared into the night.

**...HERE TO STAY? **

_**To be continued...**_


	6. Files

**Poll on my profile pertaining to this story, I recommend checking it out. **

**-Fighter1357**

* * *

**WEEK 2, DAY 1**

* * *

Dick Grayson lightly set the newspaper down on the couch, facing the picture of the two robbers down, so their scared faces wouldn't be looking up at him. Obviously, this place didn't have any vigilantes that were out daily because if they did these men a) wouldn't be there or b) they wouldn't have been as shocked as they were. The article itself actually hadn't been half bad, meaning what they were saying. At least, it hadn't been like Gotham where the entire city had been saying Batman was a myth. Okay, well, Alternate-New York was saying that too. Along with, if he did in fact exist, he was probably a retired cop who wasn't happy with what the current officers were doing. He had to admit it was pretty funny to read what the writer had said about him. They even took a picture of his card.

He was highly amused by the fact that they still didn't know what he looked liked. Apparently, it seemed, the men hadn't wanted to admit that they were beaten by a child. That was technically what he was, a child, no matter that he was thirteen, he was still a child in adults eyes. All the NYPD knew, basically, is that there was someone, somewhere in the vast city, that was trying to do some good and they had know idea who he ( or she, as well, because they hadn't ruled that out) might be and Dick was inclined to keep it that way. Sure, it would probably hurt him someday, perhaps he got injured or maybe he would reveal himself and all of this worlds America would explode from the fact that a child (it would be the League all over again) was doing a grown mans work. They might put him in the system, if he was still young enough, or maybe they would send him back to SHEILD, which would suck because he didn't want to go back to that hellhole.

He sat up, starling the cat that was sitting on his left, and walked over to his computer. The cat stretched, yawned, and then curled up into a ball, licking his lips momentarily and then falling back asleep. Dick chuckled, spinning in his chair he slid over to the computer and slipped out the flash drive. Grinning, he put it in his utility belt. He put that on over his jeans and the slipped a warm, XL pullover sweater to cover it up. He slid on some boots over his feet and some nice, warm gloves over his hands. He glanced down at the cat and smiled as it looked up, as if sensing he was staring at it's scraggly coat.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, smirking.

The cat, looking as if it had just rolled his eyes, laid it's head back down on it's paws and continued to sleep. Dick turned away and grabbed his mask from the desk. Stuffing it into the front pocket of his jacket. He smirked as he lightly crossed through the former living room, not a single floorboard making a creak. Instantly, he found himself as the foyer and in front of the that old, yellow door. He opened it only so a crack would appear. Peeking through it, he found no one in sight and he smiled, opening the door wide enough so he could slip through.

Once out into the chilly December air, he pivoted on his heels and closed the door lightly, a small breath of war air breathing on his skin as it blew out of the house in one waft. Dick closed his eyes, letting it tingle over his skin, and then turned around and began to walk. He knew the publics knowledge on SHIELD was very low, as they had just been discovered merely a few months ago. He'd read articles, blogs (they had tumblr here?) and even facebook posts about anything mentioning SHIELD. Some people were angry that they didn't know SHIELD existed; these people didn't think SHIELD was doing a good job at protecting them. There were people who thought that SHIELD was good and they must've been doing something right because they created something called The Avengers.

_The Avengers. _

There were, it seemed, six people. Two of which no one knew about, Dick had to do some digging. He found very blurry photos of a redhead and he thought perhaps an archer that were taking with someone's cell phone and shaky hand. There was a large green… thing called The Hulk and Thor, which Dick only knew about because he had studied up on Norse Mythology. Okay, he had decided, that meant that mythological gods existed here too, just like in his Dimension. Captain America he had to do almost no digging on, after a battle with aliens (obviously, this world was new to heroes) the entire world was a buzz with an old hero, albeit a US soldier, returning.

Captain America, he found out from a library website, was a soldier was experimented on during WWII. He practically saved the world by defeating some Nazi organization. Either way, Dick liked the guy.

And then… Tony Stark. Dick had been tempted to throw out every Stark related technology that he had edited, in case he was another Luthor. But, after doing a bit of research on the "billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, business man" he figured that this Ironman was pretty much Bruce's exact opposite. He had been a weapons manufacturer but then that stopped after he was kidnapped in Afghanistan. He was know the only name in Clean Energy right now.

Now that he was walking outside, Dick was glad it was sunny, even though slightly overcast, because he was tired of the cold and the snow and the rain and the fog. It reminded him of Gotham and mind you, New York isn't Gotham but his mind still made connections and he was just tired of looking at a constant reminder of where he wasn't and where he was supposed to be. Still, Dick was thankful for the sun, because he liked the feeling of the warm spreading through his body when it hit his face. He tried to think of different things, really, he did, because right now, it was Christmas Eve. Music lyrics, his favorites books, lines he'd memorized from favorite television shows. They all faded back into his mind whenever he passed houses that, despite looking rather dilapidated, had happy looking Christmas trees in their fronts windows.

He closed his eyes as he walked, mumbling under his breath.

_"When I die hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away. I'll fly away O' glory, I'll fly away (in the morning), when I die, hallelujah by and by… I'll fly away." _He quickly wiped away the tears the song brought to his eyes. Why it wouldn't go away, he didn't know. His mother would always sing the song on Christmas, or when she was cleaning their trailer. It was always a painful reminder whenever the lyrics came to mind, but he sang it to himself anyway, because painful reminders are what make people keep going.

* * *

After reaching a school and breaking in, they were out for Christmas break anyway, he had stationed himself at a computer. These computers were probably up to date here, but Dick had to laugh at the simplicity of them. They were easy to hack, but then again, it was a school firewall and it wasn't that hard to do in the first place. (He'd hacked Gotham Academy more than once anyway to change his and Babs schedule). He began by homing into the drive he'd placed under the SHIELD computer when he was escaping. The thing was synched into the system, he just had to get _into _the system. The drive he'd placed simply just so that he could get into the system without actually having to go on the Helicarrier, because that thing either wasn't here or had some sort of cloaking device that didn't really care to look for or figure out. He typed a bit through his drive and suddenly, a SHIELD screen saver popped up. There weren't any links or icons to click on, except for one but that said pictures. He plugged in his drive and then began to look through Documents and pictures, villain profiles and even Agents profiles. Everything on SHIELD, even all their dirty little secrets.

"Bingo," Dick muttered, smirking and eyeing the cameras that were in the computer lab. He'd accounted for cameras of course, this was a very nice High School, but he was a very, _very _smart kid. At first, he was tempted to hack and wipe them clean but then decided to wear his mask instead. His idea of keeping a hidden vigilante status would be swept out from under him but that didn't matter, for all they knew, he could just be a student here trying to get some stuff done. Come to think of it, the school was pretty nice. Big classrooms, each, it seemed, with a smart board and nice large, windows. He rather liked Midtown High and who knows, maybe he would attend here-

No, because he was going to get back home. It'd only been a week. Batman would find a way to get him home, he was his father and family never leaves each other.

"Concentrate," he muttered, shaking his head and turning back to his USB. When DOWNLOAD COMPLETE flashed across the screen he smirked and slipped the USB out. He "discharged" the drive, meaning the thing was basically dead now and completely useless to whoever would find it, and the SHIELD screen suddenly zapped from existence from this computer. He stood up and winced as the chair squeaked against the linoleum. He then picked himself up and was gone.

* * *

**Earth-16**

* * *

"I spy with my little eyes… something that is… orange."

"Wally's hair?"

"Yup."

"Will you stop involving me in your game?" Wally snapped, glaring at M'gann and Zatanna, who were both smirking slightly.

"No, you look like a Gnome threw up on you. Your covered in colors. Your Adidas are green and your pants a blue, your jacket has black, purple and blue, your shirt is white and red and your hair is orange. Silly ginger," Zatanna inquired, patting him on the head.

"It's only been a few hours and you two are sitting there playing I Spy," Wally replied flippantly, gesturing to the two of them.

"Wally," Zatanna put a hand on his knee, "We talked about this. If it had to be anyone to be sent… wherever, than it's a good thing it was Robin but I can guarantee you he's going to be alright. None of us would have been calm. I mean, where could he be? For all we know he could just be in, like, Japan of something-"

"If her were in Japan he would have called us by now," Wally interrupted.

"Maybe he's unconscious?" Zatanna asked, shrugging. "Either way, he'll be alright."

"Maybe not."

All three of them turned to face Batman and Superman, who were walking from one of the many halls that made up the mountain. Batman was impassive as ever and Superman was giving them light smiles.

"It seems he may be in an alternate dimension," Batman said.

It was right then when Connor, Artemis and Kaldur all erupted from the kitchen. Artemis smelled faintly of coke and Connor seemed to have something in his hair. But all of them had serious faces plastered on their faces, as if hearing Robin was in an alternate dimension was like hearing you favorite characters just fell into hell.

"Alternate dimension? How is… I mean? Aren't we the only ones?" Artemis asked, looking extremely flustered as she tried to wring out her Dr. Pepper covered shirt.

"No," Wally inclined, standing up and frowning. "Flash has explained to me Batman's theory. It's um… it's complicated and I think Batman should explain, Flash didn't get into every detail."

Batman nodded as Wally finished, not minding at all that the speedster had interrupted. "The Multi-verse Theory is one of two theory's I have. I'm unsure of it, though I believe through recent studies I may have proved it on something, whether it be right or wrong, that's still the question. The Multi-verse theory is where with every discursion you make, a new dimension from that is created."

"Wait… what?" Zatanna cut in, looking extremely confused.

Superman cut in quickly, "Say you had the decision of eating an apple or pear in the morning, you chose the apple and life goes on, but say you didn't. Say you chose the pear. An entirely new dimension is created by that. Now imagine that multiplied by a trillions of people. With every decision someone makes, a new dimension is created."

"Wow, so you're saying that Rob is in one of these Dimensions?" Artemis asked, shifting from left to right.

Batman nodded. "Yes."

"Then he should be alright, right? I mean, if he's in a dimension, he must be safe. All he has to do is find the league there, right?" M'gann asked, looking quite fearful for her little bird.

"Yes," Batman began, "he could but The League knows of two dimensions already where we do not exist and it is highly likely that there are more. One of which the League went rogue because Superman killed Lex Luthor and one where we simply did not exist; the Crime Syndicate, alternate versions of ourselves."

Kaldur frowned. "And if Robin is in one of these dimensions… he could be in danger."

"Yes," Batman inquired, "and it's very likely that we might not even exist in the dimension he's in. It can be highly likely that perhaps your parents never met or maybe a city doesn't exist because the founder was killed as a child. Maybe an army won a war that lost here, we don't know and Robin could be there. It is highly likely that he is somewhere were we don't exist and if we do, we might not even be heroes."

"Are you saying we may be the villain?" Connor asked, looking away from Superman.

Superman shrugged. "Who knows, like Batman said, something could have happened where we don't exist and yet someone else does in our place. We don't know and if Robin is in one of these Dimensions, who knows how he'll react or what he'll do. And maybe he might be in a Dimension where there are no heroes at all and everything is just fine."

The teams glanced at each other. In the back of their minds, they feared now what Robin would do if he found out they were villains or maybe they were just weren't heroes or maybe they just didn't exist and Robin was all alone trying to figure out what to do and how to get back.

"So, if Robin is there ins one of those dimensions, he should know how to handle himself? And… how do we get him back?" Wally asked. He figured that Batman had prepared Robin for anything; perhaps even dimensional transportation. He knew that Robin had repeatedly complained about the useless training when they were younger and even now, and Wally had just figured that maybe Bats had programmed Rob to do something if her were stuck in an alternate dimension. Then again, it didn't seem that even the Batman would think of a something like that.

"Not exactly," Batman started. "I never went over what he should do in such a situation, because the issue never came to mind. However, he should be able to apply the skills he uses when in an unidentified location and unsure of what to do. As for if we can get him back, yes we should be able too. If a motley crew of assassins can obtain or build a Dimensional teleportation device, then the League can as well."

The team nodded, each glancing at each other with looks that told the others that they had no one else to trust.

"Um… what was… what was the other idea?" Connor asked, his voice surprisingly small as he did so. Superman frowned.

Batman seemed to be hesitating before he answered. "The other was that we are the only dimension of our kind. We are the only Justice League in existence but yet it is likely that another group of Heroes could exist in a universe squashed up next to ours."

The teams nodded, knowing that it wasn't true because the League already knew of alternate versions of themselves. Wally flopped back down on the couch, sighing deeply as the options of where Dick may be came to mind. It was scaring him that his little brother was in a completely different universe where he, Wallace West, might not even exist. Artemis grabbed his shoulder, though quickly removed it because it was sticky and covered in soda. He gave her a smile, however, in return.

* * *

**Earth-Prime**

* * *

Tony and Bruce were still going over the energy signature when Bruce decided to turn in. Tony was still up, going over the images from the satellite and recorded fluctuations taken by the SHIELD scanners. Bruce had asked him to tell if he found anything good and Tony complied, already running on his third cup of coffee by then, and then turned back to the work.

He still hadn't found anything that was really of use. The scanners fluctuation was so large, it was off the chart. Tony had to have Jarvis create a completely new chart with a new system to run on. It hadn't taken the AI long, but Tony had had enough time to go and ask Pepper how she felt about another cup of coffee. And then enough time for her to tell him five reasons to leave her alone. By the end of that, Jarvis had completed the chart and was already running scans of the images again.

"What do you go for me?" Tony asked, flipping through more satellite images. It showed a wooded road, slightly wet from a probable rain from earlier that day and then their was a flash of light. It built up suddenly and with each image grew larger and larger and then suddenly was gone in the last image. Tony couldn't find the source of the light and it was just killing him.

"Jarvis," he sighed, "Upload the image. Zoom in."

Jarvis complied, uploading the images to the holographs and zooming in on the light. Tony frowned, taking a sip of his coffee, and leaned in closer. The light was… a different color almost.

"HD image. Increase by 200%."

Again, Jarvis did so. And this time Tony smirked as the image sharpened by said percent. The light certainly changed in color. At the end, it was certainly a bright white but as it got closer to the middle, it was green and blue and even a bit of purple. At the middle, however, there was dark, black speck. Tony frowned. That shouldn't be right. It's light, light isn't black. Darkness is the absence of light and if there was darkness in the middle of that light than that meant that something was there taking up that light.

"Increase by another 100%. Zoom in."

"What in the world?" He asked himself and then blinked, shaking his head. He'd seen a lot of stuff but…

"Jarvis… is that what I think it is? And I know it is because, I'm me but…"

"Yes, sir, I do believe it is."

* * *

"Did you find anything interesting?" Bruce asked the next morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Tony Stark looked up and smiled as he answered, "Nope. Nothing at all."

* * *

**WEEK 2, DAY 3**

* * *

Going through all of SHIELD's stuff he was thoroughly impressed with the whole thing. They had a multitude of agents at the place. And a lot of weapons ideas. He wasn't liking what he was seeing, however, because it seemed like SHIELD was more dirty than they wanted to admit.

While having a lot of hidden bases, most were filled with experimental weapons that made Dick cringe because the blueprints didn't look good. They did bad things and he knew, he just knew, none of the League would approve of these secrets. The Leagues worst secret was there identities and that, despite what people thought about them, they could only do so much to help. Still, Dick was glad to learn about the Avenger Initiative. Not only did her read each Avengers file, he read two of the SHIELD agents history, though he had to go a bit deeper into the files. Each hero had pretty interesting history. Black widow was like him; she started at the same age, eight years old. She reminded him of Hawk woman, certainly a warrior. Hawkeye looked to be a more of a serious Green Arrow, though he definitely wasn't going to judge by picture. He was going over the records that SHIELD kept of their weaknesses, just in case, it seemed, any of them went rouge.

Dick read about Ironman and Captain America and Hulk (who was pretty much this worlds version of a meta-human, like Captain America), thoroughly engrossed with the whole reading when the cat came up and jumped on his lap, burring his face in Dick's chest.

"Fine, fine! I'll get you dinner!"

He laughed and picked the cat up, scratching it between the ears, and then set it down. After grabbing some food from the backyard, because it was actually colder out there than it was in the house, he set it down for the cat to eat. Smiling, he backed away to change into his Robin costume and was gone before the cat had finished.

* * *

**WEEK 2, DAY 5**

* * *

Robin hadn't been expecting someone to be waiting for him.

Though, it had seemed to good to be true. The thieves were slow and clumsy and didn't even know how to hack the system. One of them had been just about to smash the glass when Robin, being particularly bored, jumped into stop them. The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by cops who looked angry and slightly afraid. There was a spotlight over him and he looked to be a bit more younger than he actually was. The police were proceeding with caution.

"STAND DOWN," one yelled, probably the commissioner, through a bullhorn, "You are alright. Do not move. Put your hands behind you head and stand down."

Dick glanced at them, looking rather unpleased that he had rushed in so quickly. Closing his eyes, he went over Batman's training in his head. Though it was rather difficult with the commissioner who so faintly reminded him of Gordon, yelling withal his might. Still, he kept going over the image of Bruce standing there, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and telling him to be patient and don't ever do anything rash. He took a deep breath and then made on fidget, the next thing he knew, two officers were running forward with guns pointed at him, yelling that he not move.

The first thing he did was kick them with his legs. One brought his shield up to defend himself, but using it was springboard, Robin jumped up and out of the police circle. The moment his feet hit the ground, he was sprinting down the New York street. The crowd of officers and civilians suddenly dispersed. The cops were either running toward him, or toward their cars. However, Robin had already had a head start. He ducked into an ally and quickly changed into his civvies, shedding the hero costume for something a bit less noticeable. He slipped out from the ally, only to be grabbed by a man in blue.

"Did you see someone dressed in Spandex run down here?" he snarled, picking Dick up by the cuff of his collar.

Dick quickly shook his head, pushing fear into his eyes.

The officer growled and then dropped Dick, pushing him away. Dick stumbled back into a brick wall, glaring after the officer as he ran away. Eventually, he began to walk back to his home, sighing with every cold step.

He got back home and then fell on the couch, crying.

_**To be continued…**_

* * *

**He will meet the Avengers… later. It'll take a while. As I said earlier, _go to my profile for a poll._ It involves a major development in the story and I want to know if you guys agree with it. As for mistakes, I am sorry. But _PLEASE_ vote on poll. **

**Sincerely, **

**-Fighter1357**

**PS. Follow me on tumblr? www. fighter1357. tumblr. com**


	7. Chase

**I had a few PM's pertaining to the poll implying why they did not want Spiderman as a part of this story. I'm sorry, the people had voted.**

**Avengers won't find Dick for a while. Be prepared for some extreme waiting. And Peter Parker. **

* * *

**MONTH 2, WEEK 1**

* * *

Dick was tired.

He was tired of everything.

He was tired of lying down on a couch in the cold, with a scruffy cat laying next to him. He was tired of this New York. He was tired of all this new information he had sought up. He was tired of this life. He wanted to go home. He'd spent this worlds New Years sitting in bed closing his eyes as tight as he possibly could to try and forget what happened when he was back for the last New Years, when he was back home with his friends and family.

And the last thing that he was tired about… was him.

He was tired of himself. He didn't want to do good and then have to steal money. He didn't want to steal. He was tired of looking in the mirror and seeing his haunted eyes look straight back at him. He knew now that back home, with Bruce and Alfred, that everything he'd seen being a hero, and even when he hadn't been a hero, was covered up by the momentary happiness by that life and now that he no longer had it, it was showing itself through his eyes and his pale skin. He didn't look in the mirror anymore, because when he looked straight into his blue eyes he felt a sense that he was drowning; drowning in his past because that's all they showed.

Still, he picked himself everyday for the past two weeks and went on trying to do good. He'd even gotten a few people on his side, including cops. When they surrounded him, a few hesitated, staring at Robin with pity. When the NYPD asked for his name, he smirked and replied, "A little bird won't let me say!" And soon the papers began referring to him as "a little bird". A few civilians even liked him. He was often found swinging from building to building, people looked up and cheered him on. Honestly, he rather liked the fact that people could see him. It reminded him of being in the circus. Still, however, he needed to remain in the shadows and now people hardly saw him as he leapt and swung from building to building.

It didn't change the fact that he knew SHIELD was on too him. He was careful to check if he was being followed every few minutes, and often scanned the air for nanobots, a technology that Batman had developed after the incident with The Swarm. That had been a horrible experience neither of them wanted to repeat and he still sometimes had nightmares of seeing Bruce being eaten alive by it. And, if SHIELD wasn't after him, than they weren't as on top of things as he felt, though, he was pretty sure they were scanning over every picture and article. And then checking it twice. He also had a feeling that they didn't want any heroes they didn't have power over.

He chuckled softly to himself and glanced around where he was.

Clinging one top of the Empire State building in the day was amazing. In the night, however, it was a completely different matter. It was, he decided, as if all the stars had suddenly fallen down from the sky and then landed on the ground in the perfect places to create the silhouettes of buildings and the had grown larger and brighter and turned different colors. It wasn't like Gotham, where all the buildings that had anything more high powered than a phone light had the curtains drawn. New York liked to shine, and shine it certainly did. He had seen here in this New York a few stars, actors and such, that existed where he was from.

Or course, they were taller or maybe more richer or maybe they weren't an actor, maybe they were a star Athlete. Though, one person that he did see made him laugh. Bill O'Reilly, from the O'Reilly factor on FOX news that Bruce liked to watch. He was yelling about something political when Dick had passed a TV and Camera store. It was nice to something familiar, however different it might be. Though, in the back of his mind, he was reminded of where he was not.

Glancing down, he was greeted with the sight of blackness, though the street lights faintly shone through it. He could vaguely see the headlights of traffic-ridden cars and grinned, looking up as the wind shifted to where is was blowing in his face. He opened his eyes, looking out at the city, his eyes passing over the lights that traveled for miles and then cut off right as they met the ocean. He smirked one last time and then closed his eyes, his grip on the spire slowly loosening as he fell forward. And then, suddenly, he was falling.

He'd calculated that it would, at this height and with his mass, that it would take about one minute for him to fall. If he shot his grappling gun out at thirty seconds then he would be able to hit the next building over and swing to that H&M. As soon as he was falling, Dick closed his eyes. The wind was flying past his face and the next thing he knew, his arm was shooting out to the left and pulling the trigger. He felt a small tug in that direction as the hook grasped on to something and then suddenly he was being pulled that way. The wind direction changed and he was suddenly once again falling, though now the grappling acted as a guide.

Clicking the trigger once more, he felt himself being pulled up into the shadows and then he was thrown up over the building, narrowly missing a trashcan, and then landed on the balls of his feet, breathing heavily. Grinning, he stood up and pressed the release button on the gun. With a click, it ungrasped itself from the brick and reeled back into the gun.

* * *

**SHIELD **

* * *

"You find him?" Fury asked, leaning over the Agent's shoulder.

The young agent glanced up, his wrist swiping across his brow as he did so and then looked back down on the computer.

"He doesn't have anything shielding him. He have a lock on the systems but he's moving quickly toward… um… I'm not sure-"

"Well find out," Fury growled, and then turned to Maria Hill, his second in command, "Deploy a few of the agents. We need this kid back here now."

Hill nodded, pressing the intercom button to deploy the agents. "I'm going to brief them," she inclined and then made her way out of the control room. Fury sighed and rubbed his forehead.

The kid had suddenly disappeared. He'd been trained. And whoever had trained him had really drilled it into his head because the kid… they hadn't just found him until now. He'd told the Avengers to stay out of it, but of course Stark had been all over the moment he told them not to do anything. The kid had suddenly appeared one day on the paper and the moment Fury had read it SHIELD had been an array of problems. And then when he came up on security cameras in a high school, Fury had been even more furious and even more angry that they couldn't find him. How much evasive training could one child have?

Sighing, he glanced back at his Agents. "You, over there, you'll work on satellite imaging, alright?"

The agent nodded quickly, turning back and typing a multitude of commands into the computer. Hill returned not moments later, toting a scowl on her face. Fury didn't say anything as he continued with commanding his agents.

"They're all ready to go. They were deployed."

"Good. We're finding this kid, tonight."

* * *

**ROBIN**

* * *

The moment he heard the crack he knew he was being followed my SHIELD agents. He'd been walking from this roof to that, toting a smirk as he crossed over dark alleys. He'd stopped a shooting and a rape. And right then he was feeling pretty good about himself. Of course, that gave him no excuse to slack off and so when he heard it, he continued going, only simply changing his course from the Bronx to Upper East Side of Manhattan. He couldn't be leading them back "home" now could he.

He had to admit, the agents were good of course. They stayed, at the most, ten feet away and remained on completely different buildings that the one he went on. He now how to get rid of a tail, it was one of the first things that Batman had trained him. Still, makeshift villains were one thing, trained operatives were another.

He jumped up, grabbing the ledge of the building and hefting himself up. It wasn't a big feat, but as he pulled himself up the brick, which must've been loose because it shook and wobbled, he fell back down. He landed on his back, causing him to hitch his breath. Shaking his head, he sat up cracked his back, wincing as he felt the form bruise. He picked himself up and then jumped up again, grabbing another brick, and pulled himself up. Glancing around, he saw in the shadow of the building to his right, something move. A hand, moving up, as if talking to someone in a comm. link. Scowling, Robin kept moving his head, because he'd only stopped for a slit second and hopefully they didn't catch that he was staring at them.

Once on top of the other building, he ran and jumped off the other side. A sudden and brilliant idea came to his mind as the wind brushed his cheek. He could hack into the SHIELD frequency and then begin to mess with them. Also, he had a feeling it would really piss of Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD.

First of all, though, he would have to lose them. Grinning, he melted into the shadows of the building, eyes narrowing behind his mask. He waited a few moments and then suddenly, two operatives leapt down.

"Did you lose him?" one with blonde hair said, a male. The other, female, glanced around irritably. Robin studied the blue SHIELD uniforms, his eyes lingering on the eagle insignia.

"Kid is good. He must've turned back," she inclined, scowling in further. Obviously she really wanted to find him. SHIELD must really want him. She pressed the comm. in her ear. "Anything on the satellites?" Robin's eyes narrowed. Maybe he would have to take them out, which was something he had wanted to avoid.

"S***. You lost him? How did you? No, no… fine. We'll just have to scan the area."

Robin glanced down at his glove, and slowly moved his left hand to touch the shielding device he had constructed for the scanners. Something he made out a of a combo of Stark and Wayne technology. The piece was more advanced than he hoped. It was basically another EMP emitter, it would send out an electromagnetic pulse that would wipe out any technology. However, it would just look like system failure if they inspected it.

He clicked the button softly and felt warmth spread through his arm as the device let out a soft hum.

"What's… hello? Agent Kramer? Hello?"

"What is it?" the male asked, and then clicked on his comm. "Hello? Nothing."

"System failure," the agent muttered, causing Robin to snicker. Luckily, they didn't catch it, though the male did look around.

"Let's just go, we've lost him by now."

They both glanced at each other and nodded, turning back to the opposite building, they jumped up and left. Robin shut off the signal, quickly and smirked. He clicked up on his computer, the blue screen popped up and illuminated his dark corner. He clicked on a few things, tapping into frequencies traveling through New York. That included cell, computer, iPod, and anything else wireless. All of the similar ones, like cells and ipods, could be eliminated at once began they had a similar code that allowed them to connect to a wireless internet source. He eliminated radio signals, because comm. link and radios, albeit similar in how they worked, did not have the same signal. He was left over with about a hundred signals. What he guessed SHIELD was going on was computer to comm. The comm. was connected to a computer, so he guessed and if it was connected to a computer than that meant that he had to be looking for a signal from a computer that was similar to a radio frequency.

"Bingo," he muttered, and clicked on a few more things. He was in. Over a speaker, he heard an Agent sapping at the two he'd just seen. He heard the voice loud and clear. Clicking a button, he interrupted, knowing that the entire SHIELD helicarrier could hear him.

"Hello, this is the Little Bird. I was wondering how you were doing?"

There was silence for absolutely three seconds before Fury's voice rang over his speaker.

"How did you get on this frequency?" he asked calmly.

Robin shrugged and then remembered that they couldn't see him. "I hacked it. Wasn't that hard either? I really recommended changing you password from-"

"Enough," Fury interrupted. Robin needed to hurry up, they were probably trying to backtrack the signal to him. "You need to give up, now. Enough of this hero stuff, leave it up to the adults."

"Puh!" Robin chortled, "Where I'm from, I'm a hero. I'm allowed to be a he-"

"And where is that from?" Fury asked. Dick, not Robin, paused.

"None of your business."

"The hell it is. You're going to tell me who you are and where are you from?" Fury demanded.

Robin terminated the link.

* * *

**EARTH 16**

* * *

"Eight hours. And all we know is that he's in an alternate dimension," M'gann sighed, pulling at the edges of her skirt.

"It is better knowing something, than it is nothing," Kaldur replied, looking down at the Martian next to him. She looked up at him and sighed, shaking her head. She took a step away and then pivoted on her heels.

"Is it? Is it really?" she asked. Kaldur opened his mouth to reply, but she shook her head, cutting him off. "No, let me finish. Is it better to know that you're friend may be in danger? Or is it better to think they are in danger? See, here. We don't know. Is he really in danger? We don't know. Could he be in danger? We don't know! Kaldur, what if he really his. What if he's being hunted by some rapid eagle that wants to eat him?!"

"M'gann, do not let your imagination get the best of you. He is Robin and he was trained by Batman, he will know what to do."

"But Batman said-"

"Batman said that Robin should apply other training," Wally cut in, walking from his room. "And Rob will, that's who he is. He'll um… he'll be fine, you know? Batman said so and, despite what I think of him, I trust Batman."

Kaldur and M'gann inspected the speedster for a few long moments. Wally was staring at them, instead look at the floor with hard eyes. His arms were crossed tightly in front of his chest.

* * *

**JUSTICE LEAGUE HEADQUARTERS**

* * *

"Bruce, we'll find him."

"Diana, I don't even know if we can."

Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, looked down at the billionaire with shock. "Excuse me? Did you just imply that you won't be able to do something?"

Bruce looked away, flustered, toward space. It really was an amazing view.

"Remember when he first met? Well, I mean, after I knew you for a while, remember what Flash did?"

Bruce didn't answer. But the Amazonian didn't need one, she knew he remembered exactly what Flash did.

"Of course you do," she continued, ignoring the pointed look he sent her, "He changed your file so that when I read it, I would believe everything it said because I didn't know any better. He changed one part of it to say "Batman has the power to glance at a women's stomach and make her pregnant". Of course, I didn't know any better. And when I asked you if it was true you looked at my stomach and said "we'll find out in nine months". And then you said you were going to catch Flash, which is practically impossible. What did you do? You caught him and then duck taped him to a chair and put a heresy bar right in front of him. You left him like that for two days." She paused.

"Where are you going with this?" Bruce asked, even adding a bit of a chuckle into his voice. She glanced down at him and shrugged.

"I sort of lost track but I think I'm trying to tell you, you can pretty much to the impossible. You are a mortal man and yet you caught something that's faster than the speed of light. If you can do that… you can cross the worlds."

Bruce sighed and sat back in his chair. "Diana, I really honestly appreciate what you're doing but-"

"Bruce, shut up."

Batman scowled, but then turned away, standing up and throwing the cowl over his head. "I'm going to find, Dick, then because you seem so inclined to believe I can."

Diana smirked as he stalked toward the Zeta-beam, his eyes hard set on finding his son. She stood up and sighed, closing her eyes in worry. The smile disappeared off her face and she turned away, toward where she knew Clark was standing.

"Clark…" she sighed.

Superman flew forward, a bashful smile on his face. He landed in front of the Amazonian princess. "Sorry, I couldn't help but notice. We'll find Dick. I wouldn't be surprised is he found us."

"Yeah?" she asked, "try telling that to Bruce."

* * *

**EARTH-PRIME**

* * *

Tony hadn't been proud that he hadn't told Bruce what he found.

But what he found was something he wasn't completely sure about.

Because in that light, had been a human figure. A _human _figure. The light had just erupted out of no where and inside it, was a human. Tony had gone over the frequencies of the light and sound that could have caused any disturbances in the air using the satellite data and found that they had matched the ones that the tesseract had caused.

That meant the light was a portal and that meant… that meant that the human figure he saw, was coming through. He was scrambling to find something else but then accepted it, had a beer, and then sat thinking who would want to come here. If the frequencies matched the tesseract that meant where the light had erupted from, this green light, had something similar to the tesseract. But this light had ripped over a whole in the universe, well, it did. But you couldn't look through it. You couldn't look through and see space, like the one he'd flown through did.

This hole had just been a eruption of light and only for a few seconds. Obviously it had been long enough for the human figure to pass through this portal. The idea that whatever it was could be from their world had also crossed his mind and he was more inclined to believe that one than anything else. Of course, he couldn't completely throw out his previous theory that someone had crossed worlds, because that would be stupid and a Anthony Edward Stark certainly is not stupid.

If something had crossed worlds that could imply that there were other worlds. Of course, Tony knew there were other worlds; Loki and Thor proved that. There were nine worlds, he understand. Or nine realms. He had read up on it after the incident with the Chituri and completely blown out the possibility of only nine worlds. how could there be only nine.

Nine.

Only nine possibilities of other people existing in other dimensions, other realities.

It was stupid and very short-minded.

So, he had sat there for a few hours trying to think of a way there could be more worlds. More. He needed something to make sense. He'd come across a few theories but all of them struck him as off and he had completely dumped them.

His best one, he and Jarvis had decided, was the one where there is a whole bunch of universes that were rubbing up against each other, each one depending on the last. Personally, he really liked this idea.

If every world depended on a decision than that meant there were millions, billions of worlds. He liked it a whole lot better than nine.

So now… he just had to find the connection with this… light and this kid. And he knew, it wouldn't be easy.

**_To be continued..._**


	8. Home

**MONTH 5, WEEK 4**

**Chapter based off the song by Mumford & Sons: I will wait and roughly on Hero by Skillet**

* * *

Dick had been here five months and yet… he still hadn't lost any hope that he would get back. He couldn't give up. He'll wait. He wouldn't forget and he knew Bruce was doing everything he could to get him back; he had too. He had to wait, he had to be patient. He couldn't rush into this.

He didn't have a clue to get back. He knew he had to wait for Bruce. And he had been waiting, quite patiently actually. He had been going out each night, fighting crime for Bruce and for himself. He was helping this world. People liked him, people trusted him. He kept out of the light as much as he could though, he didn't know what he'd do if they found out how old he actually was. He was young, and short and could be easily, despite his reluctance toward the matter, be mistaken for an eleven year old. So, the people trusted him for what they thought. And SHIELD was still after him. Though, he hadn't seen them in a while, he knew they were there, lurking in the shadows. He kept up with himself in the newspapers, there was a bounty out for him, a fact of which he was quite proud off. It was a big one, like the one that had been over Batman's head when he first started, but it still made Dick pretty proud. The bounty was for "The Little Bird", not for "John Richards". About a month ago he had had to move from his little house because someone had followed him, suspicious of a thirteen year old boy frequently running through the neighborhood, and called the CPS.

He hated Child Protective Services.

Well, he didn't actually hate them, he just didn't like that they ripped children, children who had no one but each other, apart or from the only place they knew as home. He had had to deal with them when he was younger, but even then DC had deployed an agent to get him the help that he need, Samantha Park. She'd been nice enough, Dick had liked her, but she had to send him to Juvie, because there hadn't been any room in any of the orphanages. He'd been bullied, punched, spat at and been verbally put down more times there than he had in his whole life before that. He had just experienced his parents deaths and they sent him there, where even the guards pushed him around. He knew that Miss Park hadn't been happy about it, or proud, but he still was a little bitter toward the whole thing. But, that's how he learned to stay strong, and it had helped with the trainging from Batman.

Either way, when they found him in the townhouse he had had to rush out of there. He'd found a new home, an abandoned apartment complex. Personally, he didn't like it as much as the town home, but squatting in an apartment was better than squatting in a house. Still, he had almost forgotten his computer but all the extra tech that was too heavy for him to carry, he had to leave. He had watched as the CPS search his house for him. They were confused as all the tech but they left it, which Dick found odd but he didn't really care, and he had gone the next day and took it all out.

And he still had his cat, the ginger animal following him when he'd gone to search for a new home. The apartment complex must've been nice during it's early days, which must've been the 1920's because the place looked pretty roughed up, like it'd seen a lot. He had shrugged it off and had taken a room, a nice big one, on the top floor, which was about the seventh floor.

After being here five months, Dick had gotten used to this world. He'd gotten used to a bigger New York, and no heroes. He'd gotten used to have to look up and inspect for the SHIELD helicarrier, which he figured was floating above the city invisibly.

He chose to live this like this, as if he were jumping off a cliff. Living in abandoned apartment complexes, fighting people who didn't have a chance. He kept going, kept driving, yet there was a nagging in the back of his mind. It kept telling him he wouldn't get back, that he'd never see Bruce or Babs again or anyone else and it pained him. He felt lonely, though his cat helped him feel that a little less. He had gotten used to this place, and he was already forgetting Gotham. Oh, he could still tell you every little street he'd ever been on, he could tell you the best pizza shop you could imagine that was just across Gordio's Ice Cream Shop. He could tell you all that. No, he was forgetting the _feel. _

That feeling that you'd get when you walked down the street. When you looked up at the gloomy gargoyles and felt that they were watching you. That moment when you felt someone lurking in the shadows. It was the feel of insecurity and Dick _missed_ it. He missed that feeling, that insecurity. It was odd, when you thought about it, to miss being afraid. But he liked the feeling that he could take on anything, it was like being an adrenaline junkie. You wanted to moment when you're just higher than everything and you know it.

Still, he tried not to think of Gotham.

But after being here five months… five months… he couldn't just not think of his old home.

Yeah, that's what he said now; old home. His old home, even though he closed his eyes and tried to think of it, he used could see the Manor, but now he began to see the apartment. And it killed him in side. So he would lay down and breath and just stare up at the ceiling, because he didn't want to close his eyes and not see his home.

* * *

Dick stood up and snatched at his belt. He took it everywhere now, because it comforted him. He walked with it under his jacket, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his head looking down, instead of up and out, like he used too. He didn't want people to notice him. He avoided walking down places with a lot of mirrors in the windows, because the last time he did that, he turned and saw someone in the mirror.

It… it couldn't have been him. But it was; it stood there with onyx hair and blue eyes and pale, pale skin, almost like moonlight. He was staring at this creature with haunted eyes and hollowed out cheeks and it couldn't possibly be him. But it was and he quickly turned away, eyes squeezed shut and rushed away, pushing through the tightly-knit New York crowd. Now, whenever he walked on 5th Avenue, or on Broadway and streets with big shops with fancy clothing, he walked looking down, so he wouldn't have to look at himself.

He walked down a the flight of stairs, skipping steps occasionally. Today he felt off, but that was probably because he's woken up in a good mood.

"That doesn't happen often," he muttered to himself, pushing open the door that led to the street. He walked past a few people, druggies and drunks. He saw multiple cars that chugged along the road, looking like they'd gone through a bit too much in their lifetime, already expired.

Like him.

He kept walking, hands stuffed in his pocket and his thoughts wandered around like a mixture of liquids. They churned and churned and he couldn't get rid of them. They were mostly, of course, things that he would do today, such as getting some food and maybe some news clothes, because he was pretty sure these were starting to smell. Either way, he was unsure of what to do.

He was fighting as Robin, doing good but there hadn't been any major villains going after him. No villain, big villains, had popped out to challenge him. Honestly, he thought it was bit odd. He knew that many of the villains in Gotham had introduced themselves to challenge Batman, to get rid of him. Many of them had been good people but they'd been created on accident and he knew Bruce blamed himself for creating them, whether it be indirectly or directly. Dick didn't, because he knew that Bruce couldn't have stopped Joker from going insane, he couldn't have done anything to help Two-face from rejecting help or Penguin from just wanting money. It wasn't his fault, really, but like Bruce couldn't help them, he couldn't help Bruce from thinking that. He didn't understand why there wasn't anyone to challenge him, not like he was complaining, it was better when it was easier; less mistakes.

He kept walking, feeling more and more reluctant as he did so.

He soon found himself on 5th avenue again, because he had briefly looked up and saw the sign. Sighing, he kept walking, deciding it would be nice to go to central park. He walked, honing in on conversations. A lot of them came from tourists, but a few of them were from people on phones. He liked those the best, because he tried to imagine what the other person was saying, and it gave him something to think about.

Suddenly, he was thrown to the ground. He felt himself falling backward and in a split second he flipped around and threw out his arms, catching himself quickly.

"Oh!" a shocked voice yelped from behind him. He turned around onto his back and saw a woman. She was tall, with strawberry-blonde reddish hair. She was in heels and a notebook and a coffee were in her hand; she wore a tan skirt and a white blouse like shirt. She was looking down at Dick with wide eyes and then suddenly she kneeled down, setting her coffee and notebook on the ground. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry! Here, let me help," she grabbed his hands, which were scratched up and slightly bloody from the sidewalk, and pulled him up. He leapt to his feet with her help and rubbed his bloody hands on his jacket. He didn't look at her as he replied, "Sorry… I didn't see you."

He knew that she was staring at him with worried eyes, he glanced up. She was searching him oddly. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?" She asked. He mumbled something and then reached down to pick up her coffee and notebook.

"What was that?"

"I'm homeschooled," he rushed out, looking up at her. She stared at him for a few moments and then smiled, though the smile looked off. It didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, well um... that's good. Well, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention; it was my fault."

"No, no!" He objected, shaking his head and waving his hand in an objection gesture. "It was mine. I have a science project to do, I was too busy thinking about it. I walked into you."

She suddenly looked a little skeptical about him but then nodded. Smiling toward her, he brushed past, setting a faster pace than last time. Where had he seen her before? The newspaper? Computer image? Someone. He gritted his teeth. This was really going to bother him.

Shaking his head, he pushed through the crowd, looking at everyone's face and memorizing each detail.

Five months.

He was still waiting.

* * *

**EARTH-16**

* * *

It hadn't even been one day.

Not even a day.

And they were all slowly dying inside.

There was no cackle of laughter.

There was no one bothering Artemis as she cleaned her arrows.

There was no one to illuminate the dark living room with his computer screen.

There was no one to grimace at M'gann's cooking and then tell her that all it needed was just a little something more.

There was no one to practice with Superboy.

There was no one hanging from the rafters.

And it had only been one day.

Batman was working in the JLU headquarters, inspecting the weapons that Green Arrow and Flash had been close to ripping apart. Well, they started with the portal gun. Bruce couldn't put it back together. Whatever energy source they had been using had been completely burned to a crisp. He couldn't do anything to identify it and it was really, really bothering him. Still, he worked on.

He figured that whatever the rock had been, it had been a portal opener. However, it was such a small piece of probably an originally large rock, that it was only meant to transport between place to place in one world and not from world to world. Without finding the piece of rock that it had come from, they probably wouldn't get Dick back. The force and amount of energy that this rock had strained to create was so great. So far, he couldn't find anything that could match it here. At least, there was nothing he knew of.

"So," Barry, the Flash, asked, walking into the room, "How is this, erm, all going?"

Batman glanced up. "Not very well honestly, Barry. They completely strained this thing, it's burned to a crisp; there's not an ounce of energy left."

Barry frowned and walked over. "What does the level say on the meter?"

Batman glanced up, confused, yet he didn't show it on his face. "What?"

"The level on the meter. It reads how much energy is being used. You did see that right?"

"Barry, despite how against I am about tellin you this, I'm somewhat 'out of it' right now."

Barry nodded in understanding, sending Batman a small skeptical smile, and walked around the table at a normal human pace. "Look," he pointed to a part of the gun that Batman hadn't noticed. It was a small square object that had a multitude of numbers on a green screen. "That right there measures the levels of energy that the gun used to create a portal. It measures the strength of the power that the gun emits, or emitted. The higher the number, the higher level of energy. It's used on things like ray guns, stuff like that. I've never seen it to measure portals of energy, but it works either way."

"And the last number-" Batman started, and then Flash interrupted.

"Is the last amount of energy that the gun read, which meant it's the amount of energy that rock used. Using that, we could build something that will reach that height of power."

Sometimes, Batman forgot that Barry Allen was technically a genius.

"Okay, what could be the energy source?" He asked, glancing at Barry through the cowl.

Barry shrugged. "Well, if we want to find Richard fast, we can't go looking for this rock, whatever it is. We won't be finding it in any short period of time. However, there is an alternative," Barry frowned here, hesitating slightly as if he were unsure whether or not he wanted to continue.

"Yes?" Bruce urged, though it sounded more like he demanded. He slipped off the cowl, frowning as he stared at the gun.

"Me. If I run fast enough, tap into the speed force, I could create enough energy to match this one-"

"Barry," Bruce stopped, "tapping into the speed force is dangerous, you know you could get trapped there forever. Do you want to take that risk?"

Barry hesitated for a moment. "Yes, because it's his only hope."

Bruce didn't look away. "You're doing it because you know I want you too, don't you?"

Barry looked away, shaking his head. "Yes… but I want to help Dick. He's like the other nephew I never had." He looked back at the Batman. "I want him back as much as you do."

Bruce looked away. "Then let's do this."

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: MARVEL UNIVERSE**

* * *

Tony set down the newspaper, frowning.

This… child vigilante was still bothering him some how.

SHIELD had called them up so Fury could debrief them. The kid was dangerous and Fury, who had been very reluctant to admit it, had told the Avengers that the kid had _evaded SHIELD capture and hacked into the systems. _

Tony was coming to like this kid, despite the kid being a fugitive.

Either way, Fury wanted this kid caught; SHIELD wanted this kid caught. Tony glanced around his workshop. It was filled with pieces of scrap, papers, empty beer cans, and the remains of foam a fire extinguisher. He sighed, he wanted to kid caught too, but not for the same reason. He was close, he knew, he was so close to figuring out the kids connection to the light and the figure inside. It couldn't have been the kid because… no one would be able to create a portal-shooterer at the age of twelve, or thirteen… however old the kid was. He leaned back in his seat, frowning, his eyes searching for something in the table next to him. He needed, no not needed, _wanted_ answers and he couldn't find them.

That was very rare but he knew that he didn't know everything, despite how much he acted like he did.

So… what he knew was this… this portal opened up from some world somewhere and someone had crossed over. Next thing he knew was that SHIELD was holding a child in custody. Could the kid be the one coming over? No… he shook his head but then… the idea began to kindle… What if the kid didn't cross voluntarily? What if he was forced to come here and then… then SHIELD inspects the energy signature that the portal had caused and find this kid, who could have very well caused the energy somehow and take him into custody. He knew that Fury had been wary to take the kid in at first (he could have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time), he could tell that in Agent Hill's eyes and in Fury's own, when Director Fury told them how they got the kid. He told them how the kid had escaped SHIELD custody and was obviously brainwashed and confused; he claimed to be from somewhere called Gotham City? Tony had snorted, because that sounded like an extremely depressing city. Still, he had shaken his head at thought of someone having brainwashed a child, a boy. He was mad when he'd thought about it in depth, he heard the blood pumping through his body but then he shook his head and tried to remain calm.

So… if the kid was forcefully pushed into this world… he must be so scared. It had been five months. They hadn't found him. He had to get him back home; the kid had to have a family, but he might not. If he believes he is some kind of hero then what cruel joke did someone pull to get him from his family to get him act like this.

He glanced at the picture of the vigilante again. It was fuzzy, dark and looked like part of it was someone's thumb. But then you could see, just faintly, a figure swinging from one building to the next, a cape flying out behind them. The one noticeable feature that he noticed, however, was the onyx hair that shined in the moonlight. Upon inspecting closer, he shook his head at a funny thought.

No.

The kid couldn't be the vigilante, "The Little Bird".

But… he'd seen that hair before, in the SHIELD security cameras from the kids interrogation. He shook his head. Whoever did this too him was going to pay; Tony would cross the worlds to do this.

"Tony?"

Tony turned around to see Pepper, looking slightly disheveled, walk through the glass doors.

"Pepper!" He exclaimed, hefting himself up from the chair with a grunt. "You're back early." She walked over, shrugging off a black jacket and her purse. She lanced around the room and then back at Tony. She looked a little off, some emotion was held in her eyes, but then the emotion disappeared from her face and Tony ignored it, thinking he imagined it.

"Yeah," she chuckled, "I've have a long day. First, Lawrence Collins from the Board, was complaining about something, I honestly didn't pay attention-"

Tony held up his hand and she stopped. "I have taught you well, padawon!" He proclaimed. She walked over and smacked him across the arm. He laughed in delight.

"Anyway, there was that. Spilled coffee on some briefs and then ran into this kid in the street. Tony, I think he was homeless."

Tony glanced up, the laughter gone from his eyes. In all seriousness he asked, "What did he look like?"

Pepper frowned, slipping off her heels, which she rarely did in the workshop. "Is it relevant?"

Tony couldn't shake off the weird feeling he felt. "Maybe."

"Well, his clothes sort of smelled. His cheeks were extremely hollowed and his eyes looked… well, Tony…" she sucked in a breath. He frowned and put a hand on her arm. He looked deep into her eyes, his brown ones meeting her green ones. The emotion that Tony had seen before was back, and this time it was just a bit more relevant; it was more prominant.

"What?"

"Tony, they looked like they'd seen war. I mean… they were sunken in, and haunted. He didn't look me in the face most of the time and his hair was like… like coal kind of onyx-like, but it looked grimy. He looked so lost. And he was lying about being homeschooled and thinking about some project, I could tell. "

"Coal?" Tony asked, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. Pepper couldn't have ran into this kid. That's impossible; things like that didn't just happen. Life didn't work like that. But then again... time was like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey, who knows what could happen.

"Pepper, remember that kid I told you about, the one that SHIELD was keeping in custody?"

She nodded, frowing as she did so.

"He escaped… five or so months ago. SHIELD hasn't found him and they don't think the Avengers are needed for this."

Pepper looked at him. "You don't think-"

"That you ran into him? Highly unlikely but I have this feeling." He turned to his work table, swiping it clear of pieces of metal and paper. They clattered to the ground, causing Pepper to jump two inches into the air.

"Tony-"

He spun on his heels, a disappointed smile on his face. "I'm going to find this kid and get him back home where he belongs. And then I'm going to bet the crap out of the man who did this too him."

_**To be continued…**_

**I feel like this chapter wasn't as good. **

**Is this going a little slow for you guys? Do I need to pick up the pace? Or do I need to slow it down?**


	9. Villain

**Chapter 10:**

* * *

**EARTH PRIME**

* * *

Tony had gone to work almost immediately.

At first, Pepper had watched him build the tracking device. And then she'd fallen asleep; not soon after she'd woken up to Tony yelling. She'd been shaken awake, Tony yelling something in her ear. At first, she'd been worried that something was wrong and the first thing her eyes did after they snapped open was fly the Arc reactor in his chest. Finding that it was there, she looked up and then found that he was grinning.

She groaned.

"What is it?"

Tony looked far too excited than she had seen him in a long time. Normally he was a smart-aleck, and he grinned while making those smartass remarks. But right now he just looked plain overjoyed. In his hand was obviously the device that he'd been working on, completed and blinking and whirring wildly. He was fumbling with some of the controls, which must've been at one point part of an X-box controller, and talking far more animatedly than normal.

She smiled sweetly, sitting up, "Sweetie, calm down. Second, how long was I out?"

He paused a long moment. "Six, seven hours? I'm not sure. Jarvis stopped telling me after three. Now, I finished it. I think I'll be able to find him… soon."

She was suddenly serious now, sitting forward as she wrapped her arms around her bare legs. "How soon?"

"Hours," Tony replied, frowning as he glanced down at the tracker. "Once I fix one little thing. You see, all I have to do is send out some nanos into the air. They'll go to the nearest crime scene, hopefully he'll be there. If not, it fails."

"You're going on the hunch that he might be there?" Pepper asked, frowning because that wasn't exactly Tony's style.

"Well, the other option was going out as Iron Man, and I think that would seem a little… hostile," Tony admitted, setting the device down on the counter next to a wrench and leaning against the counter. "I honestly took more time to think of the second option then the actual device."

Pepper began to grin, despite how worried she was about the kid, because now Tony was acting like a kid. He was staring at the ground, an expression on his face that she couldn't quite understand, and his knuckles quite white as he gripped the counter tightly. She glanced at the Arc Reactor in his chest, the thing keeping him alive. It had, at first, made her feel uncomfortable, but now she'd gotten used to it; for the most part. She shrugged away from the thought, deciding it not worth going there. She'd already had this discussion in her head.

"Maybe," he sighed. "This tracker… is a piece of crap. The entire thought was, in fact. Theoretically, the entire concept of him might being there is completely off. Going on the idea that he would be there, fighting and doing physical activity, is highly unlikely because you said he looked very skinny. If he is as skinny as you say, he shouldn't even be getting out of bed."

It was one of those moments that Pepper remembered that Tony was a genius. But then again, she could have been able to come up with that.

Pepper stood up and put a shoulder on Tony's shoulder. "Exactly, so that's why you need to go to where he might be and make sure he doesn't do anything that will harm him. You're going as a hero, Tony, because that's what you are. And you're going to save him."

* * *

Bruce Banner had always been, for the most part, a rather calm man. Except when he "hulked out", as Tony put it. He was nice, too and smart. Clever, if you wanted. And he was different. But just because he was different didn't mean he liked being lied too. Tony was an exceptionally good liar; when he wanted to be. But when they'd been sitting at the bar in Tony's living room, Bruce could tell he was lying about finding something. He wasn't stupid. He was clever.

Bruce didn't like being lied too. He stayed up past everyone tonight, Pepper and Tony were down in Tony's lab right now. He waited for them to come up, even asking Jarvis to announce when Tony and Pepper were coming upstairs. He waited and waited, drifting off occasionally. And he thought; he thought particularly about what Tony lied to him about. He said he found nothing about the light. Well, Bruce snorted, obviously he did.

He glanced at the clock.

Pepper had gotten back around nine, Bruce had talked with her. She had looked rather troubled and wasn't completely focusing on the conversation. At one point, she hadn't even mad sense.

"Are you joing us for dinner tonight?" He had asked, honestly curious because Pepper encouraged conversation between the Avengers. Most of the time they were an awkward mess, and Steve and Tony were glaring daggers at each other. And Pepper seemed to stop that.

"I just feel so bad," she had mumbled under her breath, after about a minute or so of her standing there holding her phone and purse. And then she seemed to snap out of it as she replied, "Oh, yes. I think I am. I need to see Tony first though." And then she had just rushed out of there. Bruce decided that it had been a long day at Stark industries.

Neither Tony nor Pepper came up for dinner that night.

Steve had been surprisingly chatty, then, and had a very interesting conversation with Natasha, who was asking what the barracks were like during the 40s. She asked about everyday life, before he joined the army, and he admitted that Tony's luxury right now was quite nice to the crappy springy bed that he'd had in his Brooklyn apartment. He told her that he'd known Tony's father, Howard, and that he'd been hoping for another Howard.

"Instead I got an arrogant jerk," he said, taking a bite out of his subway sandwich.

Bruce, being Tony's friend, didn't say anything that could make it worse. Sighing, Bruce stood up and began to pace, forgetting about earlier that evening. The thought that Tony would hide information that they both decided to seek out together was making Bruce mad. Bruce thought of Tony as his friend. And he was wasn't he? Bruce frowned, and began to pace a bit more faster than before. He shook his head, crossed his arms and paced more. Despite that it had gone well past twelve, probably around three in the morning, and Bruce was getting frustrated. He wasn't exactly one for all-nighters, especially because he could be quite irritable the next morning.

"Mr. Banner, Master Stark and Miss Potts are returning."

Bruce glanced up toward the ceiling and nodded. "Thank you, Jarvis."

The AI didn't respond.

Bruce slid behind the bar, getting down on his knees just as Pepper and Tony entered the room. They were silent and then Pepper said something.

"I think you'll do good," she said. Tony didn't reply.

"Yeah, but I need him to trust me. The suit won't help."

For a moment, Bruce thought they were talking about Steve. But… they talked as if whatever they were talking about hadn't happened yet. And Steve and Tony… well, they trusted each other… to some extent. But they were talking like someone didn't trust Tony (wasn't that everybody?) and it was because he was Iron Man. That was the entire US government, and Tony didn't seem to really care about that. So why was this person so important, whoever they were? Bruce almost sighed, but Tony and Pepper had gotten quiet. Why didn't Tony trust Bruce with what he found?

"Yes it will, you'll see," Pepper encouraged. "Besides, I'll be there on the phone if you want. I'll help."

"I know you will Pep, but I'm just worried about him."

"And that's even more reason. Who knows what he's going through right now. Come on, I'm tired. Let's get to bed."

He heard them walking into the hallway furthest the bar and then he sighed. He was very glad that Tony hadn't decided to get a drink at three in the morning. He knew that Tony would do that after that one time when Clint had dared Tony to stay up all night on only rum. Of course, Clint had been sarcastic, but Tony had taken the challenge one day and then had had a really bad hangover the next day and then Pepper had scolded Clint, who hadn't gone within Pepper since. They still didn't know what she did to him. And then Pepper had gained Natasha's respect by doing so.

Bruce slowly lifted himself above the counter, his eyes scanning the dark lounge area with brown eyes. He sighed again and then walked toward the elevator. He clicked the down button and rode the way to the lab.

* * *

"What in the world?" Bruce asked, flipping through all the stills and close ups that Tony had. The file card was laying on the floor. Pages with scribbles and notes filled up Bruce's left hand. Mathematics made up one page and another one had the word "theories" scribbled up on top in big letters. There was two sentences on it.

_Nine worlds is a fluke._

_Multi-verses= many worlds; many universes; many places._

Bruce frowned. Thor and Loki said that there were only nine worlds, nine universes. Bruce found that completely relevant, yet Tony apparently didn't. He glanced at a quick sketch that he'd drawn. There was just a bunch of balls, all squished up together, pressing against one another. Tony had drawn little arrows that circled around each one. He looked at another page of notes.

_Multi-verses: A theory in which every single decision that one creature makes creates a new world, a new universe that branches off of that one where they made the other choice. Each universe is created by the last. They rub up against each other, creating "friction" between them that lessens the event of jumping worlds. The friction creates an energy that acts as a barrier._

_The type of portal that is required, I believe, is something that completely destroys all of the energy that the worlds have created between each other. Once this energy has either a) subsided, it opens up a small hole that allows passage between worlds or b) creates such a big energy explosion that someone can pass through, though it is painful and hard. The energy immediately snaps back once the portal closes._

Bruce glanced at the stills again. Each time they got clearer and clearer and more and more zoomed in. It seemed like he was looking for something. Bruce frowned and picked up the last still. There was a human figure in it. He glanced at all the others picture. Now that he was looking at it, he saw the form in the ball of light. He glanced at the multi-verse theory notes. The light was obviously the energy signature that they had been asked to research by SHIELD for. After the energy signature popped up, the kid came and then…

Bruce looked at the pictures again.

It wasn't just a form.

It was a human form.

Bruce gathered up all the pictures and notes and walked out there and into the elevator. If he was angry before, he was ticked now.

* * *

**IN THE APARTMENT, TWO DAYS LATER**

* * *

Dick stood by the window, holding his arms around him tightly. It was sunny out, too sunny out. But it was slowly fading into the blanket of night. He is wearing nothing but some boxer shorts and an XL sweater. His body is lost in the folds of the sweater and his hair, floppy and greasy, sits on his head and falls over his eyes. He is barefoot and the apartment is cold, the June air filling it with an arctic feeling, though he is unsure how that is possible. He's shivering, his lips blue and his skin grey. His eyes are sunken in and his stomach, had it not been hidden by the sweater, would have shown his ribs. His normally cerulean eyes were more grey and dark and lost.

He shivered again and then glanced down at his stomach.

It had been growling like an animal for the past two hours.

He looked around the room and then closed his eyes. "Stop," he muttered to no one. The room was spinning and turning strange colors. He saw faceless people in his vision. Holding his head, a depressing groan escaped his lips, feeling like knives over his dry throat. He touched the cracked glass on the window and then immediately pulled back, the frost on the other side feeding to the cold on the inside. He turned away, pivoting on his bare heels and then he fell against the wall. He scratched at the peeling paint and then held himself there, breathing heavily.

He hadn't eaten since Wednesday. It was Sunday.

He needed to eat, he knew that. But he didn't want to steal. He'd spent that one thousand on clothes and blankets and just a few fruits. He didn't want to steal. He wasn't a thief and he wasn't going to become on.

"I'm not a thief," he muttered to himself, hobbling over to a small couch. The cat had long since left him since Dick couldn't feed it. Dick was lonely again, and sad and still hoping that Bruce was coming for him. He knew Batman wouldn't give up on him. Batman always told him that he'd be there for Dick. Dick closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Bruce," Dick asked, "If I was kidnapped, you would come after me right?"

Bruce Wayne looked over to see his ward, his son, setting down the Batarang on the table. He had finished messing around with it. Bruce smiled at Dick, though the boys solemn face seemed to make it hard for him. "Of course, I told you I would never leave you."

"Yes, but leaving me is different than not coming after me. Would you come after me?"

Bruce didn't even hesitate in his answer. "Yes."

The ten year old seemed to relax, his shoulders falling and his arms sliding down from the table. The Batarang was left without anyone to touch it. Dick look at Bruce curiously.

"I'd come after you too, you know. Superman told me that I should call him."

"You should," Bruce hummed, turning away as he began to once again type furiously on the bat computer.

"I know but I want to come after you too. I'd call Mr. Clark, but I wouldn't want to just sit at home and do nothing. I would do what you'd do and you said you'd come after me."

Bruce froze, his head slowly turning to look at the boy. Dick was staring at him intently with those bright, blue eyes. A small, smirk-like smile was on his face and it made him look determined and proud. Very proud. He searched his son's eyes, looking for anything but what he knew would be there.

Determination.

"And you want to be like me?" Bruce asked, turning away again. He pursed his lips as he began to type, albeit slower than before.

"Yeah!" Dick cried out animatedly. He pulled himself from behind the steel table and walked over to his second father. Bruce looked away from the Batcomputer and down toward his ebony haired son. The boy had grabbed his hand, stopping it from typing, and was grinning. "I wanna be like you. I wanna be a hero."

Looking back on it, he knew that Bruce's worst fear had probably been confirmed right then and there. He knew Bruce didn't want him becoming like him; lonely, sad, and thirsty for revenge. Bruce's parents had been shot right in front of him, just like Richard's had fallen to their deaths, ending up on the ground with cracked and bloody bodies. And then he knew Bruce had accepted it, because then he began to enhance the training. Dick had found himself making decisions on the team, once it had been created, that Batman would have made. And by then…. by then he didn't want to be Batman. He didn't want to be the one to sacrifice everything for the mission. He didn't want to be the one to make the biggest choices.

"You'll never leave me, right Bruce?"

Bruce glanced down at him. "Never."

Looking back on it, Dick didn't remember seeing the tears in Bruce's eyes.

He thrashed in his sleep, crying out.

"Batman!" he screamed, tears falling from his eyes.

"Please!"

He screamed and then sat up, breathing heavily. It hadn't even been scary, it had just been a memory. An old and faded memory, but a memory nonetheless. He threw the blankets off his body and wiped the tears from his eyes. But it didn't help, he kept on crying.

"WHY!?" He yelled, throwing his pillow across the room. Sobs racked his body. He shook tremendously. "Where are you? I thought you'd come for me!" He screamed into the air, into no where. "You said you'd always come after me!" He held open his arms and gestured around him.

"YOU LIED!" He fell to his knees.

"You lied… you… lied."

He collapsed on the ground, sobbing and shaking. He collapsed on the ground from exhaustion, hunger and a broken heart.

* * *

Dick leapt to the next building, running across on his toes as the wind blew his cape back. His eyes were set forward, his mouth set in a thin line. A fast food joint was being robbed, and there were hostages involved. He growled to himself and took a bite out of an apple. He'd left a five dollar bill at the place for two apples. And he needed something to eat and he was glad someone had dropped the money.

He began to finally break into Manhattan, the noise cars and people blooming up from the streets to greet him. Normally he would welcome the noise, but nowadays he was more inclined to be in and out. He didn't want another run-in with SHIELD while he was partly starving. Just down the road, he began to hear the sirens from the police cars. Cursing, he began to move faster. If there were police, it was highly likely that there was already someone shot.

He dropped down into an alley right next to the police line. He slipped under the caution signs and past the officers. Growling, he walked straight up to the Chief.

"Sir," he asked.

The Chief slowly turned around, his voice sounding tired as he began to speak. "Look kid, I don't care what middle school you come from, or how much you want to be a reporter. You can't-" He stopped when he saw Robin standing there with his arms crossed and a small smirk on his face. "You're… you're the vigilante!"

"Yeah."

"You're just a kid."

Robin face palmed. "Oh dear glob, please not this again. Look, I came to help, alright?"

"It's dangerous," the Chief warned, his eyes narrowing as he looked Robin up and down. Robin took a step closer to the older, slightly heavier, man.

"I can do 'dangerous'," he whispered in his ear, slowly backing away. "I'll deal with this myself. Make sure _none _of your officers interfere, I don't want any of those hostages getting hurt. And get these people further from the place, if the thug is using a gun, stray bullets are likely."

The Chief stared at the kid, because it was obvious he was used to giving orders, especially to cops. "Yes," he replied gruffly and just before Robin turned away he put a hand on his shoulder. "Do your parents know you're doing this, kid?"

He couldn't see behind the domino mask, but he could tell the kid, the "Little Bird" was staring at him intently, or with curious eyes.

He watched as the kid pulled away from him, leaping into the shadows, where he disappeared.

The Chief turned away, yelling orders at his officers.

* * *

His first show of attack was when he cackled. His voice rang around the joint and then he dropped from the ceiling.

Now, normally he'd been expecting maybe two thugs with ski-masks and black outfits. Not… not this.

There was tall, read headed woman. She wore a white leotard that was just a tad bit revealing and large, high white boots. Her red hair was curled, and wavy and a pair of bunny ears sat on her head. There was a red bow on her neck. She wore a blue, torn raggedy plaid jacket. She was tightly holding a pink umbrella. But what had caught Robin's attention was the large, robotic rabbit that had glowing red eyes and was looming over her. She looked quite surprised to see Robin there, however, as if she hadn't expected him.

"Who are you?" she asked abruptly, pointing the tip of her umbrella toward him. He glanced around at the hostages, who were staring at him with fear, which was probably directed toward the red head, in their eyes.

"They call me little bird, but personally I go by Robin," he replied calmly, his hands tightening into fists.

She sneered, rolling her eyes. "I'm new here. You _go_ by Robin, but who are you? Or what? A traffic light?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm in the newspapers, look me up. Now, why are you here?"

The red head shrugged, twirling the umbrella in gloved hands. She then paused and then gestured around her. "I want money, mostly. I never have enough."

"A job?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders all around him.

"Boring!" she sang, and then she laughed, took a deep bow, and then smirked. "You're here to stop me aren't you? Well, I very well can't have that. HA, no. It certainly won't do. My name, young boy, is White Rabbit? Now who arrrrre you?"

He blinked. Was she trying to reenact "Alice in Wonderland"? He immediately thought of Artemis, and it pained him.

"A Little Bird," he replied, his eyes behind the mask flashing across the room, looking for any advantage. Nothing was really damaged, actually. No glass, or anything that would be any immediate danger. The customers were pushed up against the north wall, eyes wide with fear as they scrunched up against the wall. White Rabbit was leaning rather seductively against her umbrella, smirking in Robin's direction.

"Ah… I see. Now, you're here to stop me? AHAHAHA!" she threw her head back and laughed.

"You're like the Mad Hatter," Robin mumbled under his breath, thinking of the Gotham Villain. "And you don't stop laughing, like The Joker."

She began to walk toward him, throwing the umbrella over onto her shoulder.

"You're hurting people, and you're robbing this place. That's not right," he inclined, talking a careful step backwards.

She pouted. "I haven't done anything to anyone."

"I never said it was physical."

She growled. "You can't stop me. You're just a kid, a little kid. And a birdy. Little, little bird. Do you vant to get pulled down da rabbit hole?"

Robin smirked. "This little bird is a little dangerous."

She tilted her head upward, leaning forward heavily on the umbrella. "How so? Are you mad? Because, we're aaaaall mad here."

Robin scowled and then he smirked, letting his cape drape over his shoulders as he pulled out two birdarangs. "Definitely like the Mad Hatter." And then he threw the Birdarangs.

She rolled out of the way, to the left (his right), and pulled up on her feet. "You missed!" She screeched. But Robin smirked and pointed to her large, red-eyed robotic rabbit. Screaming, she watched as the birdarangs, lodged in the Rabbit's eyes, began to beep wildly. Robin jumped back, screaming for the costumers to take cover behind the counter, and pulled his cape over his head. A large explosion rocketed through the building. He heard the faint sound of the glass breaking, probably flying outward to the cops. How had he known to tell them to move back?

He heard White Rabbit screaming and slowly he opened his eyes, coughing loudly. A sharp pain in his stomach made him pause but then he ignored it and stood up. There was a lot of rubble; it mostly came from the seats and tables that had been nailed to the floor. He scowled, and picked himself up, moving some seat stuffing from his hair and legs. There was a lot of smoke, and a bunch of snow coming from outside. Ignoring it, he began to make his way through the smoke to the customers. He had to get them out of here. He had no idea how that Rabbit would do, or if his bombs had had any effect on the thing, but he didn't want these people around to help find out. "Are you all alright!?" he yelled, brushing past the milkshake machine. Someone stood up, shakily, but they nodded.

"I'm a retired Marine. I'll get them out! Go, kid! Stay safe!"

Robin looked at him rather skeptically but then nodded, running off into the remaining smoke. He heard the man yell 'GO' but then the next thing he knew he was on the ground. He spat, blood pooling in his mouth, and then he looked up to see White Rabbit looming over him. There was a nasty, bloody wound on her head. Her hair was more limp and strewn with dirt and dust. "You killed my bunny. My baby." And then she lifted the umbrella over her head, a nasty smirk on her face. Robin stared up at her fearfully.

"No.." he muttered, but a sudden sharp pain in his ribs caused him to whimper and shut his mouth. Just as he saw the umbrella coming down, a bright light and a scream interrupted his thoughts but then he slowly faded in the dark.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was that is was cold.

But then again he was always cold.

But… but it was windy and he wasn't on the floor of the restaurant. It felt like he was lying upward, against a wall. Groaning, he slowly opened his eyes. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and blinking he sat up.

"AH!" His hand instinctively reached for his left side, grasping at it as he remembered the fight with White Rabbit. And then the explosion that he had caused and then the sharp pain in his side. Gritting his teeth, he slowly stood up, holding his side. He looked around and then limped toward the edge of the building. He slowly glanced over the side, holding the edge with his left arm so he wouldn't fall over. He saw he was a good ten stories up and groaning, he slide back down the brick wall. His head was throbbing and an intense ringing noise was pounding in the back of his head; the only way not to focus on the pain was to focus on the ringing, which was worse.

"I hope I didn't make it worse, I tried not to hit that side." A voice said from the darkness.

Robin jumped up slightly. "Shoot," he muttered, glancing down at his stomach. And then he looked up, squinting into the darkness.

"Who's there?"

A man came out of the shadows.

No… not a man.

A robot but… with a mans face. No… the man… Robin knew who this was. "You're Iron Man, aren't you?"

The man smirked. "You seem to know about me."

"It wasn't hard to find out, Mr. Stark. Now-" he shifted and his face contorted into pain. "-why are you here?" Suddenly, he stood up rather abruptly, looking around into the shadows and the sky. "The others… they're not here, are they? You're not trying to take me in to SHIELD are you!?"

Panic rose in his face, and he scrambled, albeit shakily, away from Tony. On first instinct, Tony wanted to rush forward and make sure the kid was alright, on second, he was surprised. Did the kid really expect…

Yes, he realized. The kid had gotten away from SHIELD, he obviously felt that they were after him. He seemed to know a good deal about the Avengers, so he thought that maybe SHIELD had recruited them to find him. Scowling, he took a small step forward. The kid pressed his back against the brick wall, giving the Tony a glare that was far worse than Natasha's. Tony hesitated before replying.

"I'm alone and I'm here to help."

"I don't need your help!" The kid spat, blood dripping from his lips.

"Yes you do," Tony replied. "You've got a broken rip, you're bleeding badly on your right hand, I can see it from here, and you're tired, hungry and irritated. You need my help and I know your problem."

"No you don't," the kid growled, turning away. "You don't know anything."

"You don't belong here, do you?" Tony continued, pressing forward. "I figured it out. You aren't from… around here, are you?"

The kid looked away and then back at him. He saw Pepper was right, the kid looked hungry and tired. "You could say that…"

"I can help get you back-"

"No!" The kid snapped. "You… you can't. I don't want your help. Go… now."

In a very sudden moment, the kid look very menacing. His glare hardened and his hand curled into fists. Tony stared at him, trying to not let his emotions show.

"Alright. But if you ever need anything…" He didn't finish his sentence, because suddenly… the kid was gone.

And Tony flew off back toward Avengers Tower… alone.

**To be continued...**

* * *

**A/N: I am going to keep the pace he same, because most of you said it was fine. It's going to jump around though. Now, a lot of you are like "I hope he sees the Avengers soon". Well... he met Tony. But... I have 25 other chapters from this pointon planned out. You saw how long this one was... and that's not even half way. We might be here all year, guys. I hope you don't mind.**

**Request: Anyone who had a Deviant Art account? Anyone who does, I want someone to either do scenes from this story or make a comic version. Just PM me or whatever for the details. Thank you.**


	10. Sail

**Chapter 10: **

* * *

**ONE MONTH LATER; JULY**

* * *

He was healthy now.

He was full.

He wasn't seeing things, the world wasn't spinning and he wasn't collapsing or seeing old, faded memories. Eventually, he had just screamed "screw you" to life, right in the face, and then punched him in the gut and walked away. He decided that he would eat, even if it involved stealing. Of course, he'd been conflicted about it. He shouldn't have left his body get to such a low point. He blamed it on his own sick pride. He didn't want to betray Batman's trust, even if Batman didn't know about it. But maybe that was how he showed his love, even it was from such a far distance. Still, he felt as if he would be betraying his trust just because he was in an alternate universe with no one that he wanted to turn to, didn't mean he had to steal. Well, that's when he punched life in the gut and walked way, leaving Life on the sidewalk bleeding from his mouth.

Though, this might have just been a dream of a guy with a white shirt with the word "life" sprawled across it that was trying to giving him lemons on the sidewalk. The guy was really annoying… and overly joyful about the lemons. So Dick may have imagined punching him in the face and yelling "screw you and your lemons".

So, now he was getting to a far more healthier status, which was having a better toll on his sleeping habits, which had completely degraded over the last few months. July was warm, and far more comfortable to sleep in, but sometimes he did wake up with a pillow covered in sweat. Personably, he preferred the cold to the hot; that was mostly when he was sleeping, however. It was better to bundle up then to completely shed everything, in his opinion. July was passing by without much of a thought, he hadn't gone out as Robin since the incident with White Rabbit. He didn't want to end up with another broken rib, on that he had to tape up himself, and an almost broken hand. He should have handled the situation better, but after simply dealing with the common thug, he wasn't prepared for a "themed villain", or whatever you wanted to call it. He hadn't really made up his mind, which was too focused on anything else. When he got back, maybe he should Bruce check him for A.D.D. Still, themed villains were going to be where most of this trouble was now, he figured.

If anything, it was a good wake up call. A painful one, but a good one.

He began to slowly but surely work up his health. He didn't like stealing, whether it be a pair of basketball shorts or some bagels, but all in all they both made him feel a little bit better, at least physically.

Mentally… Dick wasn't doing so well. He was lying to himself about doing well. He kept telling himself that he was okay, and that Batman was coming for him, he needed to sail on. The first part was a lie, the real lie. The second part he refused to believe it was a lie. Batman was his father, his second father, but his father none-the-less. Still, he would dream of the manor every night. But the one thing he would never dream of was going out into Gotham on an August night, a cool, light and airy breeze blowing around him as he bounded up and down the buildings, leaping through the air and a laugh bubbling up from his throat. His eyes searching through the dark shadowy city in search of anything that he could challenge.

And Babs told him he wasn't poetic.

Still, he missed that feeling that he got when the wind rushed up his face, the fumes of Gotham city spewing their toxins in his face. He didn't get that here; then again, he hadn't been exactly bothering to try. He was still trying to get his physical health up. Even then so, he felt alone and tired, but like he was trying to emphasize, it wasn't physical. He was just… sad. The worst had been on March 1st.

It was 2013.

And he turned fourteen years old.

That had been like stabbing him in the stomach, with the holder muttering "screw you" in his ear as he slowly fell to the ground. He didn't go out that day and enjoy the first day of spring, he didn't really do anything but sit there and wallow in his self-pity, which he normally would have looked down upon.

He hadn't realized it then, but when he was standing looking out the window, he'd fallen asleep.

_"What are you doing?" A voice behind him yelled. His eyes flickered open and he slowly turned around to see himself, but it wasn't Dick Grayson; there stood Robin, the Boy Wonder._

_"What are you doing here?" he asked, letting his arms fall to his sides. Robin shrugged, allowing the cape to fall over his shoulders and shroud his torso. He stood about five feet from Dick, his body hidden behind the black cloud and his feet spaced apart as if he were about to jump into a fight. Dick wondered if that's what he looked like to other people. _

_Robin chuckled then, his shoulders fluctuating slightly. "To talk to you, duh. Congrats, by the way. You made it to fourteen with most of your mental health still at the regular statistic. Happy Birthday. They would have been proud, too, you know." _

_Dick looked away, fighting the tears. He was fourteen, just like Robin said, he shouldn't be crying. If anything, he should be happy. They would have been proud. He knows they might like all of him, he didn't even like all of him, but they would have been proud of who he would become. At least, he was pretty sure. _

_"Same for you, they would have been proud of you." _

_Robin looked away, and Dick could imagine himself rolling his eyes. "We're the same person, of course they'd be proud of both of us." _

_"No we're not," Dick inclined, taking a step forward. "I mean, we look the same and we may _smile_ the same, but we're not the same." _

_Robin shrugged. "We might not have been, but we certainly are now. Look, back home… where you, we, belong we're not the same. Robin is heroic, cunning, athletic, funny and a genius. Dick Grayson is a wimp, a freak, mister-trip-up-the-steps, dull and just sort of awkward. But here… there's no one to lie too. You're both, well… sort of. You're definitely all Robin here. But there's bit of Dick Grayson too; you're still awkward. I'm still awkward. No changing that. You're both of us, combined as one. You are still Robin, on the inside. You don't have to fight people to be Robin. You're a different breed, certainly, and maybe you should cry for help but… you're a different person now." _

_"Yeah… you're right." A small chuckle escaped Dick's lips, but other than he remained tight-lipped. _

_Robin smirked and threw his hand up in the air. "Heck yeah I'm right! Look, I'm proud of you, though that might just make our ego bigger. But, just accept that fact that your both of us combined, you're one person now. You need to be proud of yourself and… and be happy. Who knows… well… I'm proud. You know they would be proud of you. And… Bruce is." _

_Dick turned away, not responding. For a moment there was silence, and Dick could hear Robin's breathing behind him. "Then where is he?" He asked in a silent voice. _

_"Working, trying. He is only human, but he's coming. That's the one thing that you can't give up on. I don't care if you give up on humanity; the one thing you can never give up on is him, because he said he'll always be there, and he will." _

_"…I know." _

And then he woke up.

He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand, and then blinking them over and over. It had been odd seeing himself without using a mirror. But Robin… he, was right.

"Of course he was right," he'd muttered, "You idiot."

Anyway, Robin was right and despite how much Dick Grayson wanted to be left normal (as if his life had ever been normal), that would never happen. He and Robin, they were one person now. He could life with that, honestly, but if you asked him, Dick Grayson would say no and Robin would smirk and laugh and shrug his shoulders as if he were still unsure. And he knew that Bruce was coming, for heavens sake the man kept to promises as if they were family! He couldn't give up on hope, because he could only hope. Hope was the only thing he had left, something he held hands with. Why let go the only thing he had?

* * *

**ROBIN**

* * *

Robin.

The name lapped up on his mind, over and over.

_Robin… Robin. _

He wanted to go back to being Robin, he really did. But honestly, he felt more safer staying inside, where he wouldn't get hurt, or get overly cocky, or even pretend that he was okay. He wasn't okay, but he'd long since gotten over that revelation and honestly, complaining about it in his head wasn't going to get him anywhere. But Robin… when he had that dream… they were the same now, Robin and Richard John Grayson. But… he still didn't want to get in the costume. He'd abandoned it for almost a month now, focusing mostly on vigorous health exercises to get himself back into shape. The longing to become a hero again still hadn't escaped his mind. He had caught up on the newspaper, who were wondering where "Little Bird" was. Eventually, the worry had subsided to page six by the second week. In all honesty, it was good that they had stopped worrying about him. When he came back, he would just stay clear of large groups of people. He would stay in the shadows, stay to himself and interact with the police as little as he could. Good... yes... a fresh start.

His mind made up.

He was going to be Robin again.

The thought, however, didn't seem to cheer him up.

Groaning, he slipped away from his thoughts and lurched himself from the window, which he'd taken upon himself to make a habit of standing by. Walking barefooted over to his computer, he opened up the laptop and began to mess around with the settings. After a while, however, he became bored with repeatedly making his cursor look like a light saber. Huffing, he snapped the laptop shut and rolled his head around.

"I would kill to be with Wally right now…" he muttered, blinking away the sudden feels. Sighing deeply, he grabbed his raggedy old Chuck Taylor's and slipped them on, tightening the knots with his now tanner hands. He leapt up, breathing deeply, and strode toward the doorway with the swing that used to be in his step long gone and blown away to rags by the wind. He threw open the door, causing the door knob to hit the old plaster and leave a large dent in the wall. He honestly didn't care; the place was abandoned anyway. Turning to grab the cold door knob, he noticed a small letter taped to the wood. He picked it off with nimble fingers, frowning as he did so.

On the front was a large "R", and a small oil smudge.

He frowned, suddenly becoming suspicious, and slowly picked the letter from the door. He closed the door behind him and then slid down it, staring at the R in unhindered concentration. Slipping his finger under the paper, he took out a piece of folded paper. On it, he saw another R. He began to read the words that filled up the white, crinkly paper.

_Dear "R",_

_I'm sorry if I upset you. Well, no not really. I had good intentions. And now I have to write a letter. A letter. Can you believe it? Anyway, look R… can I call you R? I saw it on your… suit, just figured it had to do with your name. I don't really think "Little Bird" is an appropriate name. So… I know your denying any help I can offer, but I'm still offering it. If you need a place to stay, or a place to talk… Pepper says my door is open. I agree. You know where Avengers Tower is. I'll keep it clear when you come._

_-Tony Stark_

Dick stared at the note, his blue eyes suddenly becoming angrier and angrier. He didn't need anyone's help, because that would mean he's giving up on Bruce, which he isn't, he can't. He crinkled the paper up, glancing down the brightly lit hall way with narrowed eyes, and then shook his head.

He stuffed the letter into his pockets.

* * *

**AVENGERS TOWER**

* * *

Bruce wasn't sure when Tony would be up from his lab, but in all honesty he couldn't wait much longer. He'd waited an entire month, contemplating whether or not he wanted to confront Tony about what he found in the Lab about a month ago. Mostly, he was concerned about the human figure in the light, and Tony's notes, and his stills. Bruce had taken them a month back, when he'd gone in there to "investigate", made copies, and then returned the originals the next day. He had tired to keep calm when around Tony, but it was quite a large feat when Tony acted like there was nothing, like he hadn't even lied to Bruce.

Bruce's head snapped up when he saw Tony, his arms more or less covered in dark splotches of oil, walk into the room, humming a tune. This was probably the most pleasant Bruce had ever seen Tony… ever.

"Tony," he called out. "Can we, er, talk?"

Tony glanced up, washing his hands in the sink. Bruce caught a troubled look in his eyes, but it suddenly faded as Tony nodded. "Sure, though, I need to get back downstairs because Dummy seems inclined to-"

"I found your notes," Bruce interrupted, not really interested in what Tony had .

Tony looked at him curiously. "What notes?"

"The ones with the portal. And with your Multi-verse idea, along with the pictures and stills," Bruce's voice was dangerously low and calm, as if he were simply warning Tony. Tony was staring at him, but there was no curiosity in his eyes; there was betrayal. In that moment, Bruce knew he was right and in the back of his mind, he wondered why Tony had let his true emotions shine through. Tony finished wiping down his hands, and then he slowly set the now blackened towel on the sile-stone counter. He walked over to Bruce, his head held high.

"You looked through my notes?"

"And you lied," Bruce shot back, though his voice wasn't accusing, it was hurt, though the hurt was covered with a layer of anger. "You told me you didn't find anything. Tony-" Bruce sighed then. "Why did you lie?"

Tony didn't answer, but he rubbed his face uncomfortably, looking away, and sighing. He set his hands on his hips, his hands twitching ever so slightly. "Because I figured it out. I just… it was impulsive."

"Are you implying that you lying was a fluke?"

"No," Tony gritted his teeth in frustration. "Of course not but-"

Bruce's fist slammed against the hard counter. "But what! We were working together on this! And then you go and say you didn't find anything! Why?" He took a moment to calm down, closing his eyes to regain any sort of hold on the monster. He was angry at Tony, but Tony didn't deserve the Hulk.

"Because!" Tony snapped, his face suddenly turning serious. "Look, what I found is… is something else, alright. As for the new theory, like everything else I come up with at first, it's a theory. As for-"

"The Human figure, Tony, I know about the human figure," Bruce's voice was more like a disappointed sigh.

Tony kept going, ignoring Bruce. Normally, Tony simply laughed through an argument, but right now he was actually yelling back, and he only did that with Steve and Nick Fury. "The notes and pictures, just…," He paused again, this new revelation made no indentation on his face. "Well, don't tell anyone, alright? Don't say anything."

"You have to explain everything. Everything, to me."

Tony nodded briskly, sitting down on the bar stool, retaliating his story.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME**

**NEW YORK CITY, CENTRAL PARK**

* * *

Dick walked briskly through Central Park. His mouth was set in a thin line, his eyes set on the ground. People bustled past him, talking and laughing and generally having a good time. He wished he were one of them, not that he wasn't have a good time, it was just that he wished he could be laughing, too. Sighing, he pushed forward toward the large boulders that made up park of the park. In all honesty, Dick would rather be at home, but he wanted to get out; he had to get out. He just couldn't handle being alone anymore.

He smiled as a couple passed him, smiling and holding hands, perfectly content in their love-filled world. His smile was big, and bright and it was fake.

Dick probably looked happy, probably content and in thought as he stared at the ground with blue eyes. And if you asked him, he was happy. Well, he was okay, which at the moment equaled happy. No, he wasn't necessarily happy with his life; his life sucked. But he was okay, he was coping. He wasn't giving up, because that was something he wouldn't ever do. He promised himself that. But he was okay. He was, thankfully, warm now and he was smiling a bit more. Though, it was because he wasn't acknowledging that he was a thousand miles away, and that there wasn't anything left to say. What could he do but wait?

Still, on the inside, he wasn't coping. Physically, he was fine; his smiled proved that. But on the inside… he was slowly falling. He had tried, many times in fact, to identify what the emptiness that had been growing inside him was connected too and where it was coming from, but he could find nothing that lead him to it's identity. Sure, the fake smile he put on for people he didn't know bothered him, especially because he acknowledged that it was fake. He knew it was fake, he knew the difference between real happiness and a lie.

Still, the fake happiness was slowly decaying him, because it honestly bothered him that his smile couldn't be real. That was what bothered him, why did he smile fakely? Why was he so… tired and alone inside? It bothered him to no end, the thought nudging it's way into his mind periodically throughout the day. Of course, he pushed it away.

Walking past an older couple, he climbed up a rather large, looming boulder, sitting down in a small niche where if one looked up, they couldn't see him. He fiddled with his shorts, peering up through the strangled branches above him into the sunlight. He began to hum, a small short, rough tune that his uncle used to hum when he was in a cheery mood. Dick wasn't cheery at the moment, but he felt as if he should be. His head rolled back, hitting the hard rock just ever so slightly.

He was fourteen now.

He chuckled, thinking of what Wally said he would do when he turned fourteen. He closed his eyes, smiling as a happy though crossed him mind. Maybe for his sixteenth, where he wouldn't be alone. The smile fell off his face soon enough, just as a large cloud rolled across the sun. His eyes wandered around, though he could hardly see over the wall of rock from the niche he'd buried himself in. He could hear voices, and laughter, and people walking around, running, jogging, singing. He felt himself turn bitter toward these people toward he didn't know.

Shaking his head, he gritted his teeth, gripping the stone with white hands. He'd gotten tanner again, ever since he'd come here. Well, he'd become far more paler, but now during the summer instead of doing school work and going out with Batman, he'd gone out, trying to escape his lonely apartment, mostly to the shops and to Central Park. He glanced away, his eyes closed and his nostrils flaring; the sudden rush of anger had left his body, and he sighed deeply, letting it all out.

Letting go of the rock, his knuckles returned to their normal tan, and his thoughts continued on as if he'd never been interrupted.

He was bitter; bitter towards the strangers. They had families, as far as he knew, and they had a reason to smile; their smiles weren't fake. His smiles were fake smiles. His fake smiles that burned themselves into his skin, so everyone could see there, and so he could never get rid of them, so they'd always be there to haunt him when he looked in the mirror, fake smiles that showed lies and loneliness. He still refused to look in the mirror if he couldn't help it. He still flinched at his reflection, because he was scared of it. It seemed that he couldn't stand himself anymore. He couldn't, he didn't like himself right then. But that wasn't who he was! He was Dick Grayson and Robin! He was supposed to be cocky, full of mischief, and innocent. He was pathetic, in his eyes, because he depended so much on people that couldn't save him. He depended too much on his ego; his ego was a butt. But it didn't change that his smile was a fake.

He shook his head, his mouth turning into a fierce scowl. _He_ wasn't a fake! He wasn't lying to himself! Bruce was still coming, and all he had to do was wait and be happy!

But… he wasn't happy, and lying to himself will only causing more problems. He frowned, what was wrong with him? Shifting upward so he could see over to the lake, his eyes caught sight of small boats that people were controlling on the land. The boats sailed over the water easily. He watched as the wind blew the water back to fight one ship that was completely black, the ship fought against the tyranny of the wind but the wind one, eventually blowing the ship over. Dick heard a startled cry from whom of which he guessed was the ships owner. His mouth turned up into a dry smirk, though he wasn't smirk at the fact that the boys ship had gotten knocked over; he was smirking because he saw life analogy.

He was the boat, and the water and the wind… well, they were his depression.

_**To be continued...**_

* * *

**Chapter inspired by: _Sail _by _AWOLNATION_**


	11. School

**Chapter 11: **

* * *

**EARTH 16**

* * *

Batman was instructing the Leaguers with such ferocity that Wonder Woman took him out into the hall to calm him down.

They had begun creating the portal thing today. One day, it had only been one day. Flash and Kid Flash were helping on the actual energy converter, but the others, such as Superman and Martian Manhunter, were helping to lift the heavy steel beams into place. Green Arrow was helping screw in the nuts and bolts, along with Miss Martian and Artemis. Superboy was helping lift crates into the mountain, grabbing them and lifting them with little problem. The Green Lanterns were helping get the crates inside, along with moving the steel objects, and Hawk Man and Hawk Women were helping lift less heavier objects. Everyone else, other then Black Canary and Red Tornado, was on a mission of some sort. Black Canary had just finished talking with the kids about what was going in. Miss Martian had run out bawling her eyes out, and Wally had stalked out looking like he was ready to punch someone.

"Calm down, we're working as fast as we can," Wonder Woman remarked, gesturing to what they had done so far. Batman breathed deeply and then nodded, though his hands were still tightly clenched fists. He glanced at her, looking as if he wished he wasn't there right then.

"I know, I'm just-"

"Worried," Wonder Woman finished for him, setting a hand on his broad shoulders. "I know. We'll get there in no time. Just… breathe."

Batman, irritated that he looked weak in front of the teens and the rest of the league, in fact actually turned away, and pulled himself away from her comforting hand. He walked back over to the doorway which led down a narrow, curving hallway. He didn't turn back, though he stopped and shot a glance at Wonder Woman. She looked after him worriedly, but then he disappeared down the long hall, his cape fluttering behind him as he walked. He didn't turn back.

Biting her lip, the Amazonian princess turned back to the work, jumping into the air with a well placed kick up from the ground, she flew up to Superman, her hair waving back from the wind. "Clark," she called out.

The daytime reporter and all-time hero glanced at her; a large curving steel beam was balanced on his shoulder. He looked confused at first, but then nodded at her in acknowledgement. "What is it?"

"Bru- Batman," she muttered under her breath, knowing he could hear. And she prayed to the gods' of Olympus that Connor hadn't heard her. "I'm worried about him."

"Aren't you always?"

She gritted her teeth, turning her back to him and looking as if she were inspecting the teams' work. Green Arrow was making fun of Artemis, as she had tripped over her own two feet. The blonde archer was glaring at him as if he had just committed a crime, which in Diana's book wouldn't be a surprise. She then turned to look at where Batman had disappeared, a solemn look on her face. She looked as if she were remembering a distant memory.

"That was a long time ago, Clark. It's not like that anymore."

She imagined Clark grinning as he replied, "Fine. Aren't _we _all?"

Thinking deeply, she sighed. "I suppose. But… I do not blame the man. His partner is missing, gone; Clark, Dick is in an alternate dimension, he may never get back." She turned around to see Clark looking at her seriously. He had shifted the steel beam to his right shoulder. She felt worry grip her stomach, and she wished that it wasn't showing on her face.

"I don't either, but he needs to keep it strong and have faith that we'll get Dick back."

"Batman and faith?" Diana snorted. "That's like Tom and Jerry."

Clark looked at her oddly, as if he didn't get why she used that's reference, or even where she learned it.

"Flash," she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Clark nodded once in understanding but then gave her a shy look. "I suppose it's true. I want Dick as much as Bruce does, I'm pretty sure. I want that kid back here, soon and safe. But I'm not burying myself in my own pity, like he is."

"Clark," Diana snapped, looking shocked. "He isn't burying himself in pity. He's pretty much lost the only family member he has. I honestly wouldn't blame him if he wasn't a bit sad for himself." She stared at Clark with her nostrils flared, hands on her hips. He looked away, suddenly ashamed of what he'd just said; normally he could control his tongue, but today he was just a little snappy, just a little more tired. If anything Clark was just weary of what was going on around him. He was tired of worrying, even if it had only been a day.

One day.

Twenty-four hours.

One whole day, light and darkness had passed and they still hadn't gotten him back; they couldn't.

Superman was frustrated, because he couldn't do something. He couldn't create holes in the universe that allowed him to cross and jump Dimensions. And he was _frustrated. _

"I know… I'm just-"

"Superman, are you going to bring that down? That piece is vital."

Both Wonder Woman and Superman glanced down at Martian Manhunter, who was floating up toward them with an impassive look on his face. He stopped at them.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing," Wonder Woman replied just a tad too quickly. She turned away, floating downward.

"Nothing important."

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: ROBIN; THREE MONTHS LATER**

* * *

He sat inside the warm coffee shop, staring out as the rain crisscrossed against the window like streets on a map. He fingered the Strawberry smoothie with long, nimble fingers. He stared at it for a little while, thinking of its pink color and then he glanced around the empty shop, staring at the customer that was obviously blogging in the back of the store, hunched over their laptop. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the window, watching as everyday people passed the shop, looking at phones or checking watches. He furrowed his brow, watching as some college students passed by the window, opening the door and causing the bell to jingle through out the store.

The cashier came from behind the back door, looking pleasantly surprised that the group was there. They were all more or less soaking wet, and they were all laughing at one brown headed girl, who was blushing a deep red. It flooded her face and made her green eyes pop. They all began to order, pushing at each other and grinning and laughing at some untold joke. Dick watched them, feeling a bit lost as he did so. He saw the team in this group of strangers.

He saw a group of friends.

He saw people he didn't have.

Looking away spitefully, he closed his eyes tightly, ignoring the growing pit in his stomach. He breathed deeply, opening his eyes, and then turned back to the group, which had sat down with their smoking drinks. He watched them as they talked and laughed and went on about how boring school was. A tall blonde boy began complaining about his Anthropologist professor, claiming in a thick British accent that the professor was "prick" and a "pompous moron who didn't know what in the bloody world he was talking about". Dick felt envy stab him in the heart; he would give anything to be in a school, learning and growing more in his education.

He glanced away again, back toward the rain and to the city. A large clap of thunder boomed across the sky, causing people outside to glance up and start waking faster. Lightning streaked across the sky like a bright flash of light, cutting open the overcast, grey sky with its bright light. Robin winced, leaning over to the right in his seat to see past the H&M that stood across the street; he swore the thought he saw the lightning hit something. Shrugging it off as his poor vision through the heavy rain, he turned back to his Strawberry shake.

"You people don't mind if I play some music right? This storm is getting me down," The cashier commented, pointing out into the heavy rain. She was biting her lip, as if worried that they would say no. She hadn't even glanced in Dick's direction though, as if he didn't matter.

"Naw," one of the college students called out. "So long as it's chill."

The cashier looked at him disdainfully, but then nodded in agreement. She pulled out a white iPod and plugged it into a small speaker, turning it on and scrolling through music. Eventually, after a good solid four minutes, she stopped and began playing the song.

Content with the music, Dick turned away from her and the rest of the shop, annoyed with the one college student, and began to stare at the sky. He thought about Gotham Academy, thinking of Barbra Gordon and his classes. He'd been bullied there, called a "Charity Case" or "Circus Freak". It had hurt, but he ignored it for the most part. It was hard to ignore people when they repeatedly made jabs at his life with pointed spears. Still, he longed to be back there, learning and making mean remarks about people in his head. He missed sitting there with Barbra Gordon, laughing about silly putty and Superman's reversed underwear. (If anything, that was the one thing that never got old. That and how they had somehow managed to create a working slingshot out of silly putty and some pencils.)

He missed telling teachers they got the math wrong. Especially when they didn't distribute properly on an equation. It was funny to see how red their faces got when they realized he was right. But then again, it always backfired because then he would get teased about it. Of course, he had to look like it was paining him. But the moment he got out of that school, a calm cool smirk crossed his face and he was out there laughing his head off at Babs and Bette Kane, who he was also mutually friends with through Artemis. Of course, it still bothered him. He'd sit in bed when he didn't go to the Cave or on patrol and would wonder if it was all true. He wondered if he was a freak; he was a freak with money. He was also an orphan, for the first few years of his life with Bruce, it had really bothered him. He'd always been surrounded by family, tons of it. Not only had his Mom and Dad and Aunt, Uncle and Cousin his family, but the entire circus. He was to leave that all behind, and finally being alone like that completely ripped him apart. Bruce didn't know what to do, and Dick hadn't even liked him at first. Heck, he hadn't even liked Alfred very much.

He hadn't trusted them at all, either of them. But then again, he was alone and afraid and you couldn't exactly blame him. He didn't have any friends for a good long while, probably until he was about ten or so and he met Barbra. That had been a rather hurtful meeting but the recount of their meeting always made them laugh. Babs repeatedly admitted she could've reacted a bit better and Dick thoroughly agreed with her. He made a friend. And now he had more friends.

Friends, he thought gloomily, he didn't have any here.

Jumping from the large thunder that rolled across the hills of the heavens, he shook his head and snatched up his smoothie with quick reflexes. Glancing around the store irritably, he grabbed his jacket and threw the hood over his head, not bothering to put it on correctly.

He stalked out of the coffee shop, his mood having suddenly diminished into something a little angrier than before. Stomping through the heavy, blinding rain, he weaved in and out of the crowd. In all his fourteen year old live, he had always felt more comfortable in large crowds; that is, of course, until he joined to live with Bruce. He had grown to be more accustomed to the shadows, to go unnoticed. And this had somehow worked into his daily life. He felt uncomfortable when in the school cafeteria, in the gym when there was one of those pep rallies. He felt as if someone could just sneak up and do something that could harm him, and when in those big crowds he found himself glancing around nervously, his hands and legs twitched, and his blue eyes skitted over the crowd. Barbra would often tease him by saying he was too paranoid; she had no idea.

Dick was even worse when it came to being Robin. Though Robin kept it more inward, his eyes still glanced around nervously and he repeatedly caught himself mumbling "Carry On My Wayward Son" under his breath, probably as a form of absent mindedness, though how that was connected to his paranoia he didn't know. Wally often said he was worse than Batman with paranoia, and Robin would promptly stick his tongue out at him in return.

Turning around a tight corner, he found himself in an abandoned alleyway. He glanced around, finding it was not raining anymore, and then glanced up to find on of those weird cloth things they put in front of hotels above him. It completely covered his view of the sky and he was right under it. Smiling smugly to himself, he sat against a damp brick wall, fingering the drink carefully.

School.

One word reverberated through his head.

School.

He smiled to the ground, his mind flying on a million different tracks. He would go to school.

Of course, he had to something better. It had already started, back in August but Dick needed to do something. No, he wanted to do something. It was better than meandering down the Bronx with nothing better to think about other than how alone he was. If anything, it would probably be good for him. It would be good, he thought, to begin learning some new things. He already missed, pretty much, a full semester. The only thing he had to worry about was being behind, and only by a little bit because he was in tenth grade math anyway. His mind searched through all the schools he knew about that were in New York from the top of his head. Neither of them were High Schools, of course. He hadn't ever been to a high school in New York, only to Colleges because Bruce and he were asked to go to donate large amounts of money. Honestly, he found it very boring. Though, occasionally he surprised the Professors with his high intellect. (That one conversation about Creation and Evolution had been very interesting).

Pulling himself from the brick wall, which was being filled with trickles of water that had begun to leak through the overhead protection, he walked out into the crowd, swept away by the mass of living bodies.

He eventually found his way back to the Bronx, and his apartment.

Actually, on his way, he had come to quite a few revelations. First, he had passed quite a few full Churches and Homeless centers and places where they handed out food. His brow crinkled and, while walking past and staring, he realized he might not have nearly starved himself. Even so, he'd thought, it didn't matter now and he probably wouldn't take the food anyway. Others needed it more than he, he would be fine. Still, he had become perfectly accustomed to stealing now. He even liked that bit of thrill when you were almost caught. Second, he found that he had grown taller. Of course, it wasn't by much, but he figured it was still a good inch or so since he'd last checked. He only realized this when he bent down to grab a five dollar bill and he found that he was higher up than he remembered. Only an inch, but Dick noticed small stuff like that.

He clambered in onto the couch, breathing the stuffy air.

School.

The thought seemed to comfort him as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**AVENGERS TOWER**

* * *

Natasha was not an idiot, now was she inclined for Tony and Bruce to believe this. They probably thought she didn't notice, but of course she did. She noticed a lot of things they probably thought she didn't. Though, she knew they obviously suspected her of noticing something, despite what Natasha thought of Tony, he was a certified genius and Bruce wasn't too far behind. If she were to confront either of them, she knew Tony would be far harder to crack; he was a stubborn mule when it came to giving up information, or even talking to people about stuff. Bruce would probably be easier to crack, though no easier than trying to get Thor to understand the toaster.

She glanced over as Tony and Bruce were quietly avoiding each other, which they had been for the past something. Obviously, they were hiding something between the two of them and yet neither of them seemed to be pleased about the other knowing about it, whatever it was.

Tony was quietly going over some notes, glancing over at Bruce every now and then. Bruce was flipping through _Popular Mechanics, _ignoring Tony's constant glances. Next to Bruce was Clint, who was filling up some Ritz crackers with sprayable cheese. In all, it seemed to be a very lazy day. Natasha was sitting there just watching everyone, because honestly that was more entertaining than sitting in her room thinking of ten different ways to kill a man using only a fork.

She lifted herself from the couch, walking over to the bar. Her eyes settled on Tony, who hadn't seemed to notice her yet, and she contemplated telling him her thoughts.

No, she decided smirking inwardly, she would wait.

But she would find out from one of them, and if she didn't, she'd go looking for the answer herself.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: STARK INDUSTRIES**

* * *

Pepper wasn't really listening to the board member.

He was going on and on about stocks and normally Virginia Potts would have been listening in, but at the moment she was staring at him blankly, not even really thinking about it. Actually, her eyes had taken a glazed look to them and she swayed a bit in her seat. It wasn't that anyone noticed of course, because they were all paying attention. Pepper's mind wasn't even in the same room really, because at the moment her thoughts were far off to "R".

Tony had said there was an "R" on his costume and could only go off that for his name. She figured he might figure out who he is, but Tony said he didn't exist. He had Jarvis do scans of the boy and yet he didn't exist at all, it was like he was a ghost. Maybe someone had completely wiped him off the grid and so it had been decided that he simply did not exist.

Of course he existed, he just wasn't on record. Tony had known about this, even when he had Jarvis do the scans. Pepper had found out much later and, being quite furious with Tony, had ignored him for a week. She had worried about him still and then fell for the fact that Tony said he found where he lived. Pepper made him write a note saying that R could come to the Avengers Tower if he needed anything. They would even keep it a secret from the rest of the Avengers, though Tony had regretfully informed Pepper that Bruce had found out. Better Bruce than Natasha, Pepper mused.

Still, the thought of him being out there just made her want to cry. She knew he had to be feeling alone; something had been going on through his mind. How long had they known about him? How long had it been since Tony had told her about SHIELD keeping him? She frowned to herself.

Almost a year, she figured. And then she gritted her teeth. A year and the kid refused help. If anything, he reminded Pepper of Tony. He seemed to be arrogantly stubborn and when Tony had retold his encounter with the boy, Pepper could tell, just by Tony's words, that the boy didn't like being touched by strangers, didn't like strangers, and didn't like being in confusing situations. Pepper had watched amusedly as Tony told her all about their encounter and how he had saved his life from this creepy red-headed bunny, which he had know idea about anyway, and then the kid had literally flipped out on him. He yelled about not needing help and Pepper was so grateful to God that Tony had remained calm and caring, which it seemed he had a hard job doing most of the time.

When Pepper had asked him the first time, Tony had profoundly refused any such notion. But then Pepper pushed and pushed and finally he gave in.

"Tony," Pepper snapped.

"Fine, fine!" Tony held his hands up in defense, smirking ever so slightly as he did so. "Look, Pepper-"

"Tony," Pepper began, pausing for split to contemplate continuing. When she did, she noticed Tony's jaw tighten. "Come on, tell me; I know you're worried sick about him. You… you really want to help him, don't you?"

Tony didn't respond for a long while, probably trying to think of excuses to get out of it. But it seemed he couldn't deny it, Pepper saw it on his face. He obviously some sort of connection to the boy. If anything, it seemed he felt a need to help him. Pepper didn't realize how right she was until Tony had replied. She watched with brown eyes. He rubbed his knees with his hands and glanced around the room and even shifted in the seat uncomfortably. Pepper knew it and so did Tony; Tony wasn't one to share feelings.

"Well…," he began slowly, "I… You see Pepper. I want to help him so bad. I don't know why, and I can't tell you how I want to. I just feel… connected to him. When…," he hesitated and then continued. "When I was in Afghanistan, I mean, I was so scared Pepper. And this kid, despite what I went through, has it so much worse. I had someone there, and I didn't want help even though I needed it. This kid… he's in a completely different dimension and is refusing help because he's scared.

"I can tell he feels if he accepts help from people here, he's losing faith in the people back home."

Pepper hadn't said anything after that regarding Tony's feelings toward the boy.

But she loved him so much more after that. Still, her feelings regarding R only seemed to curve deeper into her thoughts, making her want to find him and take him in and give him hot chocolate and tell him that just because he finds people here doesn't mean the people at home have forgotten him.

Pepper sighed.

"-Potts!"

Pepper jumped, her eyes suddenly clearing of their haze as she looked toward the board member. Joshua Wilkins.

"Misses Potts, have you been paying attention at all?" Wilkins' British accent seemed to roll on and Pepper resisted the urge to yawn. He was glaring at her with narrowed grey eyes.

"Not really," she admitted, feeling rather glum after her thoughts, "Send them to me in an email. I am sorry though, family business." She then stood up and grabbed all her paperwork hurriedly, avoiding all of the board members eyes. She walked past them, rubbing her eyes. She tried to look as worried as possible but she could tell that her face probably looked more bored than anything else.

Just as she walked through the door, she heard Wilkins say, "She is almost as bad as Mr. Stark, who is a worthless git himself!"

He probably thought that Pepper was out of earshot. Pivoting on her heels, she walked back through the door and pointed at him with her phone. He looked horrified.

"After you send that email, you're fired." And then she stalked out of the room.

_**To be continued...**_

* * *

**Thank you for all the amazing reviews, you guys are so encouraging.** **If you ask a question or something in a review and I don't reply, it's probably being answered in the story.** **So yeah, Dick is going to school. Hopefully he'll make some friends! ;) **


	12. December 18th

**Chapter 12:**

* * *

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

* * *

December 18th, 2013.

It had been one whole year, one single year. Dick's eyebrows scrunched together as he thought about it, staring at the ceiling. He was wrapped in an array of blankets from one of those donation boxes outside of church and was actually beginning to sweat.

One year, a whole entire year. 365 days of being in an alternate dimension with no one from home coming to get him. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering what was going on through Bruce's head at the moment. Was he missing him? Was he still trying everything? (Vaguely he wondered how Superman was doing and Alfred) Was he disappointed in himself? Dick turned over in his cocoon, murmuring slightly as cold air hit his warm shoulder. He shivered slightly and then covered his shoulder up, which was actually a deep tan color. He'd grown tanner over the summer and New York's winter had been very dry, with little snow and a lot of sun. The temperature was still at record lows but the sun was still able to beat down, and Dick didn't tan easily, his Gypsy heritage liked to shine and soaked in the sun as if it were water.

Sighing, his thoughts were actually calm, considering deep down inside him, a small boy was crying for his father.

Tomorrow, he thought, attempting to get rid of "one year, 365 days" out of his head, he'd go to school. It would be his first day, because honestly two months ago in October he hadn't exactly been at the top of his game, he was more focused on Mr. Stark and SHIELD finding him, and occasionally White Rabbit, who turned up since he'd first fought her and her enormous rabbit. He had also needed to time to create a past for Richard Grayson (he'd decided to use his real name to throw of SHIELD) and some audio files to call the school with. His mother had a very soft spoken voice and his father had a good, deep strong baritone.

Creating himself a past wasn't too hard, he'd just require a little ounce of truth into it. He was a straight A student who struggled in English and History; truth. He'd grown up in the suburbs; lie. He didn't make friends easily; truth. He could play the violin and could draw well, easily a truth. His mother was a small-town lawyer who got a job in the city, lie, though they didn't need to know that, and his father was the owner of a series of X'press Marts, lie. It hadn't been too hard to come up with a family history, just in case they checked into it. Before he had signed up he had, for a good one strong hour, changed the owner of the X'press Marts picture to a picture of a man he could make his father, so when they did checks on him and searched it up, it led them to a false page telling them about a man who believed in good morals and strong foundations at work.

Dick liked to think that if he hadn't grown up in the circus, that's who his dad would've been.

Still, the secretary at the school wanted to meet up with his parents, but after cutting up a recording of a women's voice he was able to make a call saying that neither she nor her husband could come to the school and would have to send the required files from Dick's old school (also forged) to the school. Midtown High School didn't have any problem with this at all, and actually thanked his mother, in a return call because Mary Grayson had left a message, that this made life easier.

And now Dick was set to go. All he had to do was waltz into that school and walked toward the office, get his schedule and then go to classes. He wouldn't make himself known, he wouldn't let anyone bother him and he'd be fine. He'd just go to school and then leave; there would be no problem.

In the back of his mind, however, Dick knew this was not going to happen because the moment he answered some math problem correctly and then correct the teacher, a hard urge to resist, people would be stereotyping him. It would be hard to place him in a group by his clothes, because after finding some in another Charity Bin, Dick had quite the average wardrobe. His hair had grown slightly long, no more than ½ and he'd grown a lot tanner. His eyes, however, always screwed up his appearance because they were such a bright blue, which distorted the dark gypsy image. He'd found a pair of dark wash jeans, just a little too big for him, and a blue pullover two sizes larger. He now carried with him, however, a piece of technology much like a phone. It was almost his arm computer except minimized and with Stark Technology, which Dick found to be quite useful when combined with Wayne tech.

He could call on it, piggy-backing off of a satellite from space connected to Verizon's 4G network and search the internet and creating it had been a pain in the but without the right tools, but all he really had to do was combine the tech he already had, but even that was hard without the right tools; though, he somehow managed to do it with a paperclip and some Fusion Rods he found in a trash can.

Even then so, he wouldn't look to shabby. He'd hid the phone, because he knew it was way too advanced for it's time and he'd washed his clothes at a Wash place, which let him in for free if he took out their trash, which he did. He'd look like any normal teenager really, if you discounted for his blue eyes, which always made people double take. Honestly, he didn't understand what was so special. Okay, so he was gypsy, big deal. Though, his father had been completely gypsy and his mother was third generation, though her father was Irish, which was where her red hair came from. He'd gotten the onyx colored hair from his fathers side, along with the uber tan skin, whish liked to flaunt itself at red-haired, freckly pale Wally during the summer.

His blue eyes, he figured, was where his Irish came in, though he had seen pictures of his grandfather when he had been younger, and then man had had green eyes, though they had been just as bright as his were. In all honestly, Dick just got irritated at the blue who said he looked odd. Of course, after having gone to live with Bruce, his tan had somehow gotten paler. He thought it had been the fluorescent light and the light the moon gave off when they went on patrol, and of course he'd been right. One day, when he was about ten or so, he'd gone and stood in front of a mirror, inspecting himself.

In a moment of fleeting panic, he'd noticed how pale he had gotten. His hair, which was still a dark, blackened onyx, made him look even paler. His eyes, which were sort of dull, looked liked two blue moon-like orbs and made his skin almost grayish. He turned away and didn't look in a mirror for about a month, after that he's shrugged it off as simply growing older.

He still didn't like mirrors, honestly, but Dick figured it was a silly thing to be afraid of, your own reflection, and had then stood in front of a shop with mirrors for a good two hours before the manager ran out to tell him to stop loitering.

Groaning, he turned once more in his bed, finished contemplating everything.

He began to doze off then, thinking of how long it'd been.

His heart ached, but his mind began to wonder and soon he was asleep.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: NEXT MORNING**

* * *

Dick was clutching an empty backpack to his shoulder, and fingering his "phone" in his pocket.

He was standing outside of Midtown High School, in the courtyard. In front of him was a large fountain spewing ice cold water, and around that were benches and places where dead trees stood. The school was made up of three rectangular buildings that were connected, they each faced the central courtyard and behind them were the track and football fields, along with baseball and tennis court, which was next to the gym. The buildings that made up the longer side of the "rectangle" around the courtyard were connected with a series of arches that lined the sidewalk, though most of those arches were blocked by bushes that were trimmed down.

Students were already meandering around, texting or sleeping. School started at eight and right now it was seven O'clock in the morning. Dick wanted to get a feel for the school before classes actually started. He could read maps well, but he was still fourteen and trying to get to where your math class was with a hoard of eight year old teenagers pushing at him wasn't fun at all, and he was still pretty small. He was in the shadow of the building facing the east, where the sun was slowly rising from the sky. He didn't want people to notice him, but it didn't matter if people were texting or sleeping, if he walked across the courtyard people were bound to figure out he was new.

And so here he was, inching his way toward the main entrance of the school. Once he came to the very last bit of shadow, he slid out and speed walked toward the entrance, no one called out to him or made any movement to confront him. Standing in front of the large doors was a man with a hooked nose and long, black hair tied back in a pony-tail. He wore a brown suit, which looked a little too small for him, and was crossing his arms and glaring at any student to make a move toward him. Seeing Dick walked toward, the man turned in his direction, his beady eyes staring him down.

Confidently, Dick said, "I'm a new student; Mrs. Haversham told me I should come in early to get my schedule and map."

The man, whose nametag said "Mr. Fallowfield", stared at him for a little while, probably trying to figure out if he was lying.

"Mrs. Haversham, eh? Fine. go ahead, but you better be back out here when she dismissed you, if I find you wandering the halls before first bell than you'll be in a heap of trouble young Mister!" Mr. Fallowfield exclaimed, tugging at the cuffs of his short jacket. Dick nodded sternly, his eyes serious as Mr. Fallowfield opened the door for him and let him in to the main hall. Bulletins were filled with flyers for "Dance Club!" and "Harry Potter Fan Club!" and the lunch menu for the week. A long hall filled with lockers went straight down the building and then two on the left and the right branched off where it ended and two where it begun. A sign on the left directed him to the front office and he took it, turning left toward a large wooden door. Turning the handle, he slowly pushed it open to see a large carpeted area filled with chairs that lined the wall.

He walked in and, seeing a very organized desk on the right, walked toward it. A hallway with a sign that said Administrators Office was on the left right next to the desk and down it he could see it was lined with door to the right. He stood in front of the desk, staring at everything around him.

He noticed one security camera in the far left corner of the room, which had view of everything except right under it. A camera one the opposite corner made up for it, however but neither caught anything in the niche of the Mrs. Haversham's desk, because there was a small part of the wall which had been pushed back for a desk to fit in it. The hall which led down to the Administrators Office had no cameras but the one on the left wall could probably get enough of it to know someone went in there.

He glanced down at Mrs. Haversham's desk.

In 30 seconds he gathered that she was married, and was painting a room. Her computer was on and beside her keyboard there were a set of keys, home keys he noticed, she drives a Honda. So, she had a husband (they were newly weds) and they were thinking of painting their house/apartment a baby blue. She was forgetful, obviously, because her computer was burning hot, and he could tell it had been turned on only moments before he entered the office because the smell and look of dust was in the air. She didn't seem to want to put her keys on the key-holder behind her desk, which means she doesn't trust her co-workers.

Just then a tall tan woman with large bushy hair, a long sharp nose and a lot of makeup came walking into the room from the Administrators hallway with files and a cup of coffee in her hand.

She didn't notice Dick, who had taken a step back in surprise, as she sat down and began to enter her password.

"Um, excuse me?" Dick asked, speaking loudly to get her attention.

Mrs. Haversham glanced up. She was wearing a lot of makeup, making her look orange and her glasses were bright red and pointed at the end. Her black hair was curly and bushy and held back with a large butterfly clip.

She looked at him startled. "Yes, can I help you?" She sounded foreign.

Dick nodded, taking a step forward. "Yes, you see my Name is Richard Grayson and I was recently registered-"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, jumping up. Her bright green frilly blouse bounded up and down. She wiped her hands on her grey pants and then began to search through a file cabinet that was behind her desk and filled with little nick-knacks and pictures. "Yes yes, we recently got you here! You're all signed up and everything boy, I have your schedule right here!" She pulled out a blue folder that was labeled "Grayson, John Richard" and pulled out two sheets of paper.

"Tell your mother we have all of your things prepared, and there should be no problem being integrated into the school. Have you chosen your electives?" she asked, handing him the papers. There was a map of the school and his schedule.

He nodded. "Yeah, Computer Science and Digital Photography," he replied.

She looked interested. "Really? Interesting, most of the students choose art for an easy A. They are quite surprised to find it is not as easy as it seems. You are freshman?"

Dick nodded, "Yes."

She nodded and then glanced down at her desk, his folder had disappeared. Cursing in another language, she began to search for it, pushing stuff aside. "I am so forgetful," she told him, "My husband tells me I need something to remind me."

Dick smirked inwardly but then nodded toward her. "Well, thank you Mrs. Haversham, have a nice day." He didn't bother telling her she'd put his documents back in the cabinet.

"Goodbye!" she called to him, waving ecstatically.

Dick walked out of the office, laughing to himself. He glanced down the long hallway, wondering if he should walk around but then he glanced out of the large doors, which had two huge windows and saw Mr. Fallowfield glaring at him through the window. Figuring it wasn't worth it, Dick walked toward the large doors.

"I wasn't thinking about," he lied to the older man, who had opened his mouth to accuse him. He walked back to the shadows, which had grown smaller since the he'd walked inside. It had been a good thirty minutes, which he had hadn't realized. Two buses were sitting in front of the school, dropping off a large amount of kids. He saw a good amount of kids his age, and what looked to be like seniors and juniors. Leaning against the tan brick, Dick watched them with curious eyes. He noticed group of kids his age with iPhones. Girl with long sculpted hair were wearing UGGS and leggings and black Northfaces. He stared at them, uninterested, he honestly didn't understand how people found that attractive, especially when he overheard one girl dropping the F-bomb every few words. He didn't judge against clothing and what people wore, but from his association with people that dressed liked that, he was wary.

Shaking his head, he saw groups of kids with Midtown High School duffel bags that said what sport they played and people with instruments all walking around and chatting with each other. He did notice an obvious junior with a big white and green Letterman jacket on. He was tall, fairly well muscled, though not as much as Superboy, and blonde. He was speaking animatedly with a taller black boy, also wearing a letterman, though he looked to be more relaxed.

At 7:45 first bell rang and Dick, along with a hoard of other students, filed into the school, setting off toward their lockers. Dick glanced down at his schedule, which had his locker number, though ignored it and walked toward his first class, which was H. English nine. Despite being bad at English, he still put himself into the Honors class. He wasn't fond of the English language; he'd grown up around Romani and often found himself making fun of it. Words he'd made, Aster, Turbed, Traught, Whelmed (overwhelmed and under-whelmed, why isn't anyone just whelmed!?) were prime examples.

He began walking through the halls toward his classroom, D244, passing hoards of students. Freshmen, he figured, stared at him curiously. A few boys, who wore khakis and big Nikes with neon colors and Northface's, were staring at his clothing, which made Dick feel ashamed to be called a boy. He walked up a large set of stairs, passing a girl that was jumping up and down and telling people to join Anime Club, because apparently they were cosplaying tomorrow. Dick laughed to himself, her Finn hat kept falling off. After passing through the Science Department, Dick was in the English Hallway. He walked through, looking at the room numbers.

He found D244 and walked in.

The classroom was set up facing a large smart board and a desk with a computer and projector on it. A teacher was sitting at another desk across the room, right by a window that overlooked the football field, clicking away on a nice looking computer. Dick walked forward, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Um, is this Mrs. Birch?"

The teacher looked up and surprised Dick, because she was fairly young looking. She was pretty too, with a t-shirt depicting a T-show and a pair of nice jeans and some heels.

"Yes, how may I help you?"

Dick gulped. "You see, my name is Richard Grayson and I'm new-"

She cut him off, though she was smiling. "Say no more, I saw you on my list this morning. Your seat is right over there, do you have a binder? Agenda book?"

Dick shook his head. "I need a Syllabus I guess."

She pursed her lips and turned back to her computer. "Alright, I'll print you one out and give it to you after class. Where are you right now?"

The second bell rang at 7:55 and kids began to show up, he could feel their stares one his back.

"Poetry," Dick replied, opening his mouth to continue and then shutting it. He was about to say the name of the poem, but then figured it would look odd if it didn't exist in this dimension. Nodding in confirmation he said, "Yeah, Poetry."

She nodded and then told him where to sit, walking into the front of the class to set up the power point. He sat there awkwardly, his backpack by his side. People were staring at him, though none made any move to talk to him. Dick was pleasantly okay with this; actually he was more than _fine _with it. As the bell rang at 8:00, Mrs. Birch began her class with him finding himself in the front of the class staring at a bunch of unblinking, judge-filled faces.

"Student's, this is a new student. Richard, you can start."

Dick gulped. "Uh, hi. My name is Richard and don't call me Rich. I, uh…" He paused, thinking of something he liked. Gymnastics, art, fighting, his friends, family, being a hero; tons of stuff.

"Um, I like to read."

Holy crap who was he?

He quickly walked back to his seat and sat down. He'd had to pass about three seats of kids all staring him down to get to his seat in the back of class. Right behind him was a large boy with bright red hair. He sat down in his seat, leaning over as to not meet his new classmates' faces.

Someone behind him tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. The kid with the red hair said in a serious voice, "You looked like shit up there."

Dick turned around, his face going red.

He had a feeling this school would be interesting.

* * *

**AVENGERS TOWER**

* * *

"Bruce?"

Bruce Banner glanced up to see Natasha Romanov glaring down at him. He set down his tea, which was helping him calm down his nerves, and sat back in his chair.

"Yes?"

"I want you," she jabbed her finger at him, "to tell me what is going on between you and Tony!"

Bruce looked startled. He let go of his tea cup, looking like he wasn't hiding anything and stood up, leaning toward Natasha. "What do you mean?"

"I mean whatever you've been hiding; I can tell that something happened between you too. The tension is so thick I can almost touch it, literally I think that the green hazy stuff I saw yesterday was it."

"I'm not sure what you're implying, we aren't hiding anything-" lie "-I mean, Tony is acting a bit odd, he's shut himself down in the lab more times than I can count, but Pepper says that's normal."

Natasha waited patiently as he went on the defense. If Bruce were ever in an interrogation. He'd be out in a minutes. He went on in exaggerated, desperate gestures with his hands, telling her how just because he and Tony hadn't been talking didn't mean there was anything wrong. Pepper said Tony lost interest in a lot of things, including people. Bruce was busy with stuff and so maybe Tony was just tired and busy with his own stuff. Natasha kept staring and Bruce kept talking.

"Look," she cut in after a good five minutes, "I don't believe any of that crap. You and Tony pissed each other off; probably Tony's fault and now you won't talk to each other. Now, what caused you to be upset about whatever it is?"

Bruce didn't say anything for a long while and Natasha was getting tired of him looking around. He obviously didn't want to tell her, which just proved her point of how serious it was. He opened his mouth a few times but then snapped it shut. She smirked at him.

"Look, well you see, it's really stupid."

"Tell me."

And so then Bruce went on a rant of how he spilled some coffee on Tony's really, really important notes for the next Iron Man suit.

Knowing Tony, Natasha believed him.

* * *

**DICK'S APARTMENT**

* * *

Dick woke to someone knocking on his apartment door, something he was not used to.

He grabbed a Batarang from under his pillow and threw off his armada of blankets. Tip-toeing toward the door, he swung it open to see Tony Stark with a bright red and silver briefcase.

Mr. Stark grinned. "Hello," he remarked cheerfully.

Dick opened his mouth to retort in some sarcastic way, but Stark pushed past him with his briefcase.

"A nice place you've got here, love the computer."

"How did you find me?" Dick snapped, slamming the door shut. Mr. Stark turned and looked at him with a serious face. "With some difficulty, you're good at hiding."

Dick pushed down the feeling that spread through him, it was pride. Dick didn't want to feel as though Tony Stark made him feel good, because only one person made him feel like that, and he was in a different dimension.

"I know and I like being hidden, why are you here?"

Mr. Stark's smile vanished. "I'm here to give you another offer."

"I don't want it," Dick said hastily, though a voice in the back of his head was screaming _"yes! Yes take it!" _Mr. Stark stared him skeptically, almost as if he knew Dick wanted it.

"Why?" he asked.

Dick blanched, almost tumbling backward. "What?"

"I said why? You're choosing to live in an apartment with no heat or air condition, you chose to live with nothing and here I come, with my offer, and you refuse. Why?"

Dick didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell him the conflicting emotions that went through him every time he thought about Iron Man's offer, because he didn't even know him. Then again, he hadn't even known Bruce but he'd said yes to go live with him.

At first, he though, maybe Bruce would think he betrayed him. Maybe he won't, he thought, maybe Bruce would think that Dick had just agreed to stay with Stark as a sort of refuge. Bruce would understand, Dick knew he would.

_One year. _

Dick scowled.

"I don't know, I just…"

He noticed Tony shift toward his computer, his hand had shifted ever so slightly so it was concealed by his pant leg, and he saw it flick out, a small metal bug flying out to attach itself toward his computer. Dick let no emotion show on his face.

"I'll think about it."

_Lie. _

"You will?" Dick felt bad, because Tony Stark actually looked pleased.

"Maybe," Dick inquired. "Now get out, please and don't come back. I'll contact you if I need anything and if I decide to come."

Another lie.

He could see even Mr. Stark looked skeptical, though now he was by the door, hand on the iron handle. "I'm glad."

And then he was gone.

* * *

**EARTH-16**

* * *

It had only been one day since Dick was gone.

He'd been taken at 5:34 in the morning and now it was 5:34 in the morning.

Thing had been flying.

They had accomplished more in one day than they did in a week, normally.

They were almost done with the converter, so close. Batman was frantic to get it done, though everyone could tell he was tired, probably because he hadn't slept since last week because of another mission he'd been working on. He was telling people what to do and they didn't argue, because he was angry and frustrated and didn't want to deal with any shit. Honestly, he was just trying to get his son back.

"Diana?" He called out, glancing over the blue-prints.

The Amazonian Princess floated down from the ceiling. "Yes?"

"How far along are we?

Diana scrunched up her nose, it seemed like she was asked this question a lot. "Far enough, Bruce. We're all tired and where every Dick is he'll be alright."

Bruce ignored her. "What are we doing now?"

"Well," Diana sighed, throwing him a look. "We've gotten the base built and I'm pretty sure Flash is setting in the computers with Kid."

Bruce nodded and then turned away.

I'm coming, he thought, I'm coming for you, my little bird.

_**To Be Continued…**_

* * *

**Time Difference: **

**1 Year Earth Prime = 1 Day Earth 16 **

Official Chosen soundtrack will be on my Tumblr: www. fighter1357. tumblr. com. Go to the pages link and it'll say "Dimensional Official Chosen Soundtrack".


	13. Mr Clapper

**Chapter 13: **

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: FEBURARY 18th, 2014**

* * *

Dick had yet to impress a teacher with his brains.

He had refrained from correcting, pointing out, noting, or even squirming at the mistakes that were made. His marks, however, sometimes suffered when he did it the correct way and left no explanation as to how it would be correct, as was what he would need when he did it during class. Of course, his teachers liked him very much, if he said so himself. If anything, he would say they at least liked him. His high marks and confident demeanor helped too, and the fact that he was polite to them; he would say "please" and "thank you" when needed and this usually got him a beam of a smile in his direction.

Dick's math class was pitiful, the students. They were loud, rowdy, and seemed to have no respect for an education whatsoever. Dick soaked it up as if it was water and he was a starving animal. His teacher was the only teacher he questioned, though they were small and "dumbed down" questions, his teacher would lazily answer as if it were nothing. Generally, Dick didn't really impress teachers with brains. He couldn't help it sometime, when they were doing a lab in science and he already knew how to simplify chemical bonds or name dangerous chemicals, because that was instinctive.

People still teased him, but it certainly hadn't been as bad as it had been at Gotham Academy, where people knew his past and who he was "related" to. Here, he was just the new, smart kid. Dick was okay with that. He went by Richard, though, because despite loving his nickname, he figured that these kids would comment on it a lot more than the Gotham elites.

He strongly disliked his language teacher, which ha had to take this semester instead of Computer Science. His German teacher had an awful teaching style, cutting students of in the middle of sentences and commanding that they speak to her in the correct way without letting them actually try.

_"Ich… ken dein Schwester?" _

_"No, no, no! Say it like this, Kenne ich deine Schwester?" _

_"Kenn-" _

_"Like this!" _

_"I'm trying! You won't let me!" _

In all honesty, it was a huge fiasco in which mostly the entire class Dick was doodling anime characters from one of his favorite cartoon shows. He had also taken to doodling himself, Robin, in cartoon form, and it was far more entertaining than watching Connor argue with the teacher about how he was saying it correctly and she just wouldn't let him finish the sentence.

He had taken to Robin again, going on patrol and finding criminals to fight. He had taken down a large Drug Cartel and one Mob war from breaking out quite close to where he lived. Those Italians have nasty tempers if you would ask him, but then again those Chinese seemed pretty peeved too. Dick knew that New York had a lot of Mobs and Gangs around, and he was more likely to run into them now that he had temporarily retired for a few months. He tried not to think about those months too much. He didn't want a reminder of his stupidity, or how he had reacted and how skinny he'd become during that time. It was, in all honesty, a sickening memory that haunted his mind. He tried, however, to fill his thoughts with school and Robin, because if anything, Robin would make him happier again.

He had, but Dick still felt lonely on nights when he didn't go out on patrol. But, like his mother used to say, you can't have everything.

"Richard?"

Dick's head snapped up. He was supposed to be taking notes on Enzymes (wasn't he in AP Biology?) but had been instead staring out in the courtyard with a dazed look on his face. He stared at Mr. Smith, feeling the blood rush to his face. A few kids snickered around him, trying to muffle their laughs with hands or their sleeves.

"Yes, Mr. Smith?"

"Would you care to tell the class what's so interesting outside?" his teacher asked, looking amused even him. Dick felt himself go redder.

"Um… I thought I saw something?" He really hoped it hadn't sounded as much as a question as he thought it did. Mr. Smith looked interested now, his brow furrowing as he thought about what Dick had said. But as he crossed his arms Dick could tell he was awaiting Dick's pathetic excuse of an attempt to defend himself. His face was burning now.

"Um…," In a moment of panic, the first thing that came to mind probably wasn't the best one to say out loud. "Robin. You know the hero? Little Bird or whatever?" Here he grinned feebly. Everyone stared at him, one kid even looked sorry toward him. Feeling slightly helpless, he stared straight at Mr. Smith and gave one sharp nod in confirmation. Mr. Smith looked unimpressed, or sympathetic Dick couldn't tell, and then turned away, back toward the smart board, where there was a gif of a substrate moving toward an enzyme. Sighing heavily, Dick slouched back down in his chair, his eyes never leaving his note filled paper.

When the bell rang for fourth period, Dick tried not to look too thrilled. Just as he was about the exit the class, his backpack on his shoulders and his ink pen twirling in his long fingers, Mr. Smith called him back.

The large, red and sharp faced Australian man was staring down as Dick as he walked over from the door, weaving through the chairs. He was setting his papers down on his desk, peering down through his glasses. "So, do you want to tell me why you were actually looking out the window?"

Dick didn't reply for a long while. "I thought I saw Robin," he answered, cursing his earlier excuse furiously in his mind.

Even now, Smith still looked skeptical and apprehensive, as if he knew that Dick was lying through his teeth. Dick, at the moment, was trying his hardest not to turn and run, though he had no reason why.

"Do you mean the vigilante 'Little Bird'? I don't ever recall the New York Times or The Bugle calling him 'Robin' before. Care to tell me where you came up with that?"

Dick struggled to come up with an answer. He tensed his jaw and clenched his pen in his hand, staring at the ground as he attempted to come up with a reasonable answer to Smith's question.

Thinking quickly, he shrugged, through a precarious look out of the window before turning his gaze back toward Smith. "Well, haven't they got pictures of him in the Bugle? I mean, I know they're blurry and all, no one _can _seem to get good pictures, but I mean, I saw his costume. It's bright and all and the red and stuff kinda reminded me of a Robin. Plus, there is an 'R' on his suit, so, I don't know, Robin just seemed to fit and all." Another feeble grin here, clutching his pencil with his left hand so tight he swore he heard a cracking noise coming from his hand. He stared into Smith's blue eyes, his own never wavering. For a moment, he let all his pent up frustration and anger with his life flood into his blue irises and when he looked back on it, he swore he saw Mr. Smith flinch. Smith turned away, pursing his lips in thought, and then turned back toward Dick, his eyes squinted almost shut.

He spoke slowly, as if unsure what to say. "And you just… thought that he should be called Robin?"

Dick nodded.

"Richard-"

"I'm telling the truth! My min is weird like that. Can I please go to my next class?"

Mr. Smith just seemed to have noticed that his fourth period class had filed into the room, all sitting their either on phones or staring at with their hands tightly clasped on their desks, journals out ready for the drill. The red headed boy from Dick's English class shot him a dirty look. Ignoring it, Dick turned back toward the older man, his face screwed up as he thought of the embarrassment he would have gotten from any of the kids in Gotham. Glancing back toward Mr. Smith, he saw that his teacher was writing him a note on a slip of yellow paper, signing it quickly and handing it over to him. Taking it with his nimble fingers, Dick pivoted on his heels and stalked out of the classroom, staring straight ahead as to not look at anyone.

Just as he walked out the door, he heard Mr. Smith starting the class.

Walking through the empty hall ways was sort of foreboding, because there was no sound other than a few doors open that showed teachers teaching their classes and/or trying to control their classes. The cameras on the ceiling also caused Dick to tense up, but he didn't stare them down as he walked down the halls. Reaching the English stairway, he passed down onto the first floor and ran into the large, blonde jock he'd seen on his first day here. He hadn't seen him since, but he was a junior anyway. Scowling, Dick hoped the junior wouldn't notice him passing on the other side of the stairwell.

"Hey, short kid!"

Dick pretended not to hear him, staring straight ahead toward the emergency exit doors.

"Hey! Kid!"

The jock seemed to be shouting at him, and knowing he couldn't pull it off because he didn't have headphones in his ears, Dick turned to face the jock, which was looking quite like he was searching for someone. "Have you seen a short, idiot-faced, brown haired kid with glasses running around?"

Dick blinked, flipping his pen around in his hand and clicking it so the point would slid out. "No. Why?"

The jock cursed and glanced around the stairwell, his dull, slow blue eyes watching the doors apprehensively. "You sure?"

Dick gritted his teeth in frustration. "Yes, my eyes are working fine. I know what I've seen."

The jock then turned on him, his eyes now narrowed as he got in Dick's face, causing the much smaller boy to lean heavily on the banister, his right arm supporting him from falling down the stairs. The boy pointed at him with rough hands. "Look, shorty-" Dick snorted at the poor choice of nickname. "-I don't do sass. So don't sass me. Got it?" He turned and stomped off up the stairs; he pointed up toward the ceiling and shouted "No one!" At the top of his lungs. Dick, so very tempted to say something else, turned and almost flopped down the stairs. He walked out of the stairwell, pushing the door open harshly, scowling and muttering under his breath of how it had already been twenty minutes into class and he didn't like being marked late because a student held him in the hallway.

Walking down through the Art Department Hall, he wasn't bothered by any Administrators or teachers, which he was thankful for. Breathing, he pushed open the door for his Digital Photography class, passing a small mural dedicated to Martin Luther King Jr., and walked in. His teacher was standing in the front of the class, in front of the smart board, showing a picture of a flower that was sprouting rainbows. He paused, mid-sentence, and Dick and his teacher just stared at each other for about a minute before he unfroze, straightened, and grinned exuberantly.

"Grayson! Glad you could join us today!"

Dick walked to the front of the class, ignoring his classmate's stares. He handed Mr. Clapper the note from Mr. Smith, taking his seat in the back of the room. He unpacked his backpack, placing his binder in front of the DELLS that constructed his view of the student in front of him. He logged in with his student ID and then pulled up the pictures that he had taken with his "phone". Glancing upward to Mr. Clapper with thumbs up, he turned away again once he began to teach about how, today, they were going to edit colors out and replace them with new colors, or something. In all honesty, Dick was beginning to slump over with sleep. His eyes were fluttering and Mr. Clapper couldn't see him behind the large PC computer.

"Psst…"

Dick sat up suddenly, glancing around. His well trained ears picking up a barely audible whisper. He looked over to his right to see a girl with blonde hair pinned up in a messy bun. Her shirt was black and said 'I LOVE DOCTOR WHO' in large blue letters. She was wearing long pants and a pair of raggedy, ripped Chuck Tailors. She was smirking slightly, her brown eyes staring him down. Dick stared at her, surprised she'd talked to him. She looked like one of those girls who really didn't give a crap about anything.

"Amanda, in case you didn't know. Um, why'd you come in late?"

Dick stared at her for a few long moments as Clapper's loud voice plowed on to working the cursor. Flipping his pen around in his hands, he said slowly, "Why do you ask?"

"Boredom, really. I honestly thinking you walking into class late was the most exciting thing to happen."

Dick laughed quietly to himself. "I could see that, I was just held back by a teacher to talk. Dozed off in Bio. Nothing really interesting." Amanda scrunched up her nose and then turned away, not talking to him the rest of the class. It seemed she was feeling irritated that she had even bothered him at all, he turned to his computer to begin editing out all the blue and replacing it with bright, neon green. With the haunting feeling of boredom hanging over him, began to hum "Over My Head" by The Fray. With that song in his mind, he worked diligently in class. Once finished making his Bronx Street looking like a ghost from Danny Phantom blew up, he raised his hand to show Mr. Clapper and then leaned back in his seat when the teacher started walking over.

Precariously leaning backward in the chair was one of the most fun things one could do, because it allowed you to get a wide enough spectrum of the classroom to stare at everyone else's computers. Watching one kid try and make her picture of a sandwich turn bright blue and the lettuce turn purple was far more exciting than watching Amanda try and make her orange flower black. When Mr. Clapper approved his picture, he exited out and then sat there, waiting for the clock to reaching the twelve so he could leave. Five minutes now. He couldn't exactly wait to get out, because that meant going home, doing work and then changing into Robin.

Robin had sort of become his addiction now, because school and a team weren't his main focus, it was helping people. Every night from 6 to 1 in the morning he would dress in his red and black clad costume, deeming it his responsibility to take care of those the police could not. He found it easier to move around New York after a few weeks of doing it, he know knew most of the largest thug filled pubs, the most dangerous corners and streets and, of course, the most expensive places around. New York was nicer, cleaner then Gotham (not a hard achievement though) and heavily populated with good people. He generally didn't let his "addiction" be shared with others, meaning he didn't show himself in lamplights, car lights, and/or any other light that might show people where he was. He was, however, going to tell the newspapers his name was Robin and not "Little Bird" because that was becoming too childish.

Robin was, in fact, also becoming a bit childish. It was what his mother had called him when he performed tricks on the trapeze at the circus. In rapid Romani, the Gypsy language, she would call out to him, "Fly like the wind, my little robin!" And so, when he'd become Batman's partner, he had deemed it fit to call himself that, in memory of his mother, and because he wanted to fly, like a robin. They were his favorite animal, and that was never going to change.

Going through his head were a number of names that he could choose once he became too old for the name Robin. Flame bird, Nightingale, Mockingbird, The Night, The Spandex Man of Mischief. He snickered quietly to himself at that last one; it would be interesting if he did choose that name. Mischief, though, that wouldn't be a bad one. Though, the newspapers and general public might take that the wrong way. Grinning, he shifted over in his seat, his leg pushing his phone up out of his pockets and onto the ground. It clattered on the floor, causing everyone to look back at him. Grimacing, he bent down to pick it up.

"Mr. Grayson," Mr. Clapper said slowly, frowning. "Is that a phone?"

Dick, tempted to tell him that no, it was no in fact a phone, but actually a highly advanced piece of technology that was far ahead of its time in every way possible, paused at he held it in his hand. "Um, yes?" He hoped it didn't sound as much as a question as he thought it did.

Mr. Clapper furrowed his brow, no looming over Dick with a frown on his face. He put out his hand. "Here, Mr. Grayson."

Sighing, Dick smacked his phone against Mr. Clapper's open hand, hoping that his teacher wouldn't notice anything different about it. He was lucky, he found, when Mr. Clapper pocketed it without a second glance and walked toward the front of the classroom, pausing momentarily at Katie Bell's computer to give her a few tips. Amanda, the girl from earlier, snickered. Dick shot her a glare and then settled calmly into his chair, folding his arms over his chest, and continued to stare around the room.

He once again began to drift in and out of thought, returning back to his earlier thoughts of names for a new hero persona. He rather liked Flame Bird and The Night, though, he was unsure whether or not to keep the bird thing or leave it behind, along with his childhood. He stared off into space and then shook his head. No, he would keep the bird theme, as a connection to his mother, the beautiful Mary Grayson. Picking at a lose thread on his jeans, he scrunched up his nose and thought of his home.

Home, home, home.

You never really thought about it until you didn't have one, that is, a nice one either. Just as he had nearly ripped of the tread, a loud, shrill bell rang through building. Every snapped up and suddenly the room was a flurry of motion; people were backing up, shutting down computers, talking excessively to their friends. Mr. Clapper was in the front of the room trying to assign homework, but as a few of the kids had already left, he gave up with an exasperated sigh and slumped down in his IKEA chair.

Dick, jumping up and turning off his computer, snatched his backpack off the floor and made his way to the front of the room, dodging the lab tables to get to the teachers desk.

He cleared his throat. "Um, Mr. Clapper? Could I have my phone back now?"

Mr. Clapper looked up and gave Dick a stern glare. "Just don't have it out in my classroom again, alright?" Dick, figuring it was useless to try and explain that the phone had just been in his pocket and hadn't been using it, nodded and reached out to grab it from where Mr. Clapper had set it down. Just as his hand had almost wrapped around it, Mr. Clapper's slim brown fingers grabbed his wrist. Instinctively, Dick tried to rip his arm away, his left arm twitching, as if to punch his teacher in the face. A surprised yelp emitted from his mouth though and Mr. Clapper's hand loosened.

"What type of phone is this, Richard? I've never seen one like it before," Clapper commented, letting go of Dick's hand to pick to phone up and inspect it. "I doubt a kid from Midtown could afford Stark TECH, and this certainly looks like something of the sort."

Feeling angry instead of nervous, Dick stuck his hand out for the phone, his left arm still twitching. "My parents just decided to send my here, I don't know why. May I have my phone back now?"

Mr. Clapper seemed to be retraining a smirk and, feeling uncomfortable with it, Dick shifted his weight. "Can you tell me what model it is? I think I'm interested."

Now with this statement, Dick began to feel suspicious, he doubted a Midtown teacher could afford his phone, let alone any other sort of expensive Stark TECH. Despite disliking the owner of the company, Dick grudgingly admitted that Stark TECH made good tech, and combined with Wayne Tech it was sheer brilliance. If anything, his teacher could afford a Blackberry, or maybe an iPhone, but certainly not Stark or Wayne.

"I think it's called SG-something-of-the-other. I don't know, my parents just gave it to me," Dick inclined, rocking back and forth on his heels. He felt a bit conceited saying it, but it was better than telling his teacher he actually invented it in his abandoned apartment with little to no resources with tech from an alternate dimension to make it the worlds best piece of technology that had ever been created thus far.

Frowning, Clapper handed him his phone and Dick spun around on his heels; he spun so quickly that the centripetal force of him bringing his arm into his chest to cradle his phone (he had to admit he was a tad possessive) almost made him do a 360. Behind him was a junior, 16 or so, with brown hair and large squarish glasses. He wore a pair of brown slacks and a white dress shirt with an ink pen tucked in the front of the pocket. This kit looked liked the dictionary definition of a nerd, though if Dick thought about it, he was one too, he just didn't look it. Quickly moving out of the way, he stepped to the left and began to walk out of the classroom, but not before hearing Mr. Clapper address the boy.

"Peter! What are you doing here?"

"I just had a few questions Mr. Clapper about-"

And then he was out of earshot.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: HELICARRIER**

* * *

Fury was happily telling his Agents what to do when the doors suddenly slid open to show Tony Stark, looking incredibly pissed and a little disappointed with someone. He jabbed at Fury angrily, not even entering the main control room of the Helicarrier, he then jabbed his thumb behind him, indicating for Fury to walk outside so they could discuss in the hall; it was times like these when Fury just gave up on people realizing that just because they looked angry meant that he would do what they say.

"Anthony," Nick Fury remarked loudly and calmly, causing Tony to glare harder. "Whatever you have to say, you can say in here."

Thinking that the son of Howard Stark was not going to go for it, Fury smirked. He was surprised when Tony shrugged and marched right up into his perch, getting right in his face.

"Alright then, since you're probably going to tell them anyway; what do you want with the kid?"

Fury blinked, having no problem conveying the shock as to why Stark knew anything about the kid, despite that they told him and Banner to check out the energy signature. He took one step back, straightened himself and stared Tony square in the eye. "What do you mean?"

Tony clenched his fists. "Look, I know what happened. I know who he is, and where he is. What do you want with him? Why?"

Fury had to admit, he was quite pleased with the fact that Tony was taking this on his own accord. He was, however, displeased that Tony had found out. This was supposed to be a secret SHIELD Operation, only known by those select few and the ones who worked in the main control room. Of course, he wouldn't be surprised if word had traveled around the Helicarrier and somehow Black Widow or Hawkeye found out about the kid and told Stark and the rest. Then again, maybe the kid had told the Avengers what happened… if Fury could convince Stark it was a lie…

"Mister Stark, you are correct. There was something to do with a boy. A young boy, but the name of John Richards, at least, that's what he told us. How did you find him? Where is he?"

Tony, for a split second, looked personally offended by this and took a step back, staring at Fury with hatred in his eyes. "I don't know what your game is Fury, but if you think I am going to tell you where he is-"

"You are going to tell us, Mr. Stark, because that is what you signed up for-"

"No," Stark growled, looking extremely pissed. "It's not what I signed up for. I signed up to "avenge" the Earth, to protect the innocents. I didn't sign up for you to kidnap and examine children. If you think that I will willingly tell you, go to hell."

Fury remained calm, though on the inside he was restraining a scream of anger. "Stark, that boy is dangerous."

"But that's what he is, a boy! I don't give a damn if he's dangerous! I'm dangerous, Banner is dangerous, did you lock us up and stare at us as if we're dangerous creatures! What did he do?"

"Stark," Fury barked, everyone was looking at them now. "That boy appeared here in a flash of light, in a bright costume with dangerous weapons and tech almost as good as yours and mutilated with scars and blood. Stark, you didn't see the scars, old faded white lines that marred this boy's body. They _covered_ it. Someone did this to him, trained him to be a dangerous weapon for God knows how long. We have to find him, contain him and train him for good-"

"And what if he was trained for good?" Tony argued. "And he's running from you because he thinks you're the bad guys?"

"I highly doubt it."

Tony snorted. "Well, I'm starting to believe it."

And then he turned and stalked away.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME, FEB. 19TH 2013 2:45 AM**

* * *

Robin spit out the blood on the hard, linoleum floor.

White Rabbit cackled. "You know, you're quite enjoyable to fight! But this time, my dear, dear boy, you won't make it out _alive!" _She let out a shrill, high pitched laugh that reminded Robin very deeply of Harley Quinn.

He jumped to the side as he large, robotic rabbit launched itself at him, it's bright red eyes focused right on him. Gritting his teeth, he leapt toward White Rabbit, sending both of them flying back into a rack of UTZ chips bags. White Rabbit screamed on impact with the cold hard ground and Robin gritted his teeth and clenching his fists around White Rabbit's white, pale arms. She screamed loudly and suddenly Robin was pushed aside by the large rabbit. He flew back, flipped backward and rebounded off the glass wall, dropping onto the ground with a ringing in his ears and a sharp pain in his side. He cracked a rib.

He shakily stood up, watching with narrowed eyes as White Rabbit lifted herself up off the ground, her blue jacket in tatters and her flame-like hair a matted mess around her head. She was bleeding on her arm and had a split lip. She pointed at him with her umbrella, her entire body shaking.

"You… are a nasty little boy."

He rolled his eyes, knowing full well that she couldn't see them. "And you… are incredibly annoying. I mean, you're a pretty lame villain too, seriously; I mean, come on, convenience stores? What's so interesting about them?"

She lunged at him and he tried to move but he figured right then he had more than just cracked a rib when he felt the explosion of pain and whimper. She knocked him over and punched him twice in the gut. He felt his heart racing, his breathing felt heavy and his vision blurred. Suddenly, a weight was lifted from his chest and he gave a soft cry of thanks. He watched as she climbed the rabbit and disappeared through a hole in the wall, whatever she had been going after long forgotten. Spitting out a wad of blood, Robin lifted himself from the ground and stood up, wobbling over to the exit door and limping into an ally.

He collapsed on the ground, wincing as he fell against the hard brick wall. A soft cry of pain escaped his lips and he wished Bruce was there to comfort him.

Hearing the sirens, he got up and climbed to the roof top, ignoring the splatters of rain against his skin, and swung back home.

* * *

** 1 WEEK LATER **

* * *

Dick was staring at the old opera house with an interest peaking in his blue eyes. It was old, from the 1900s, abandoned and condemned, and big.

He liked it.

He had in a large Northface backpack, all of his clothes, school supplies and blankets and his entire tech collection. He wanted to leave that apartment (which now had his blood smeared on the walls) for his own reasons and because that was where Tony Stark would look. He left the tracker that Stark had planted there sitting on the table, beeping, with a note that said "Don't Follow Me -D". He figured he would at least give him his real initial.

A suddenly feeling of confidence rose in him and he strode through the previously locked gate toward the abandoned opera house, wincing ever so slightly as his taped up left side rubbing against the fabric of his jacket.

He turned and looked the door, feeling extremely well protected, and walked through the large oak doors that ordained a front entrance with a sign hanging over it that said some sort of opera was going to perform on the 16th and that the building had been official closed Oct. 4th, 1934. He walked in and was greeted with a nice, large entrance hall with old moldy and faded carpets and two booths that led to the stage. A door on the right told Dick that it led to the balconies and, swinging there on a whim, he turned and pushed it open. He entered a long, dark hall that had gas lamps on the curling wallpaper with gas still in them. He walked up a set of steps, wincing as each step seemed to creak louder than the next. He walked into another hallway that led to the right and left and he walked up, into a balcony that was covered with dusty, moth bitten curtains and walked into one of the melancholy things he had ever seen.

The entire room was all pointed to a large, beautiful cherry wood stage with large red velvet curtains and a hole that let grey sunlight stream in was in the ceiling. All of the chairs were the same red as the curtains and the balconies were adorned with paintings of the Greek gods and goddess' and muses. Apollo was playing a harp to the Muse of Music, and Poseidon was sending a great wave toward the land, bearing horses and water spirits. Dick just stood there for a moment, staring at the golden accents, the grey sunlight and the red velvet. He dropped his back on one of the benches in the booth and just sat there, not saying anything.

He just smiled sadly.

_**To be continued…**_

* * *

**Sorry this chapter was so late, as you can see, quite long. **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! **


	14. Almost said

**Chapter 15: A FEW DAYS LATER**

**(This chapter goes to the song Blowin' in the Wind by Bob Dylan)**

* * *

Dick soon found out that the school was pretty laid back. After his first week, he realized that seniors and juniors, if they already had the credits needed to graduate, only have two classes each day. There were ten-minute locker times and the school was small enough that you were able to wander around the top floor twice and still make it to class with a minute to spare. His locker was close to homeroom, which he was very grateful for and was relieved when he found out that all of his classes, despite being in different departments of the school, where close enough that he could reach them easily. He hung out by his locker a lot, waiting until the last two minutes to weave through the halls to get to his classroom.

He still did not have any friends, but Dick found that quite comforting because he had figured not to long ago that friends would want to see where he lived and he figured that would be awkward if he took them to an old condemned opera house. He felt lonely and he was still struggling with his depression and his own thoughts. There was always, of course, this deep thought in the back of his mind that he didn't need friends and that Bruce and the team were coming for him but beyond that, much further into his mind, he felt as if they weren't. This fueled his depression and, of course, Dick secretly knew that and didn't do anything about it.

He had lost interest in many things though, such as working as the hero and drawing. He hadn't done a lot of drawing in the first place since he came here but when he was, still in the other place he frequently drew Robin, Batman the team, Gotham City, Haley Circus… his parents. He would often place them in a hidden compartment behind a large tapestry in his room, where most of his drawings and letters to his parents were hidden. Bruce didn't know he drew at all, didn't know he had any artistic ability, because he was so linear (apparently) with his thought process. Only Barbra knew about his drawings, only she encouraged him to draw them. He drew her one time and she kept it, saying it made her look beautiful.

He told her she didn't need the picture to look beautiful.

He liked Babs. He liked her a lot and everytime he thought about her and her ginger head and blue eyes he always felt so pained. She did look beautiful.

Then, of course, there was Zatanna, the Galway* girl. He grinned at the thought. He was struggling between the two, despite being with Zatanna for a few months; Dick was still best friends with Barbra. He knew her and she him. It wasn't like Zatanna, who only knew his as Robin. Babs knew is favorite color, food, book (Wally said it was cheesy but Dick's favorite book was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green) and his favorite artist, music, singer, band, British Prime Minister, Doctor, Winchester; everything about him. They were like two peas in a pod and they acted like it, because he knew everything about her too.

He stilled liked Zatanna and now he felt as if he'd abandoned her, as if he'd planned this, he was fourteen and his crush on Babs had only grown, while Zatanna's seemed to have shrunk. He didn't like to admit it, but his affection for his ginger friend had somewhat always been there.

It was one of those things were you don't know what you have until you'd lost it.

He suddenly lifted himself from his locker and his thoughts, brushing past a cute couple. He walked toward the English department, sighing deeply as he walked past another couple, kissing far too affectingly to be appropriate in school. He was hugging a book close to his chest, not having bothered to stuff it in his backpack when he was leaving class. Now, they were reading Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare and his teacher had told them that Romeo was actually, in today's society, which depressed Emo kid in the back of the room who knew absolutely nothing about love and could only speak in oxymoron's. They also concluded that Juliet was a whiney butt who was stubborn, independent, and strongly disliked Paris.

Dick felt as if his life was dragging on as they read the book.

Kids who couldn't read well volunteered for everything. "…that que..quen…quench the fire of you-r rage/ with purple… fountains issue…issue…issuing from your veins! On pain of torture, from… those… bloody hands. Thor your mis….mistemp…mistemper, wait, distempered weapons to… the ground…". It certainly showed the difference between public education and private education because all Dick could think about was how those kids got past second grade. He volunteered for something, preferably Benvolio, so he could have a big part and speed things up.

The red headed kid got it and when he did he leaned forward and whispered in Dick's ear "you're pathetic" and all Dick could do was restrain himself from turning around and knocking the guy into next Friday.

Suddenly, he was grabbed roughly by a strong hand and was ripped from the hallway into a bathroom. The red headed boy and a boy Dick had never even seen before were looming over him, the red headed boy's freckled fist clenched tightly around his sleeve, pulling the fabric.

"Hey!" Dick called out, just as the unidentified boy slapped a hand over Dick's mouth. Dick's mind, of course, went back to all the times he was kidnapped as to get a ransom out of Bruce Wayne. He struggled almost immediately, pulling at his captors hands.

"Hey," redhead hissed, "quite idiot!" This only made him struggled harder. The unidentified kid then punched him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, his broken rib from his confrontation with White Rabbit not completely healed. It didn't matter how much training you had, a broken rib is a broken rib. He almost fell to the ground, but then he was yanked backward and shoved against the wall. His head smacked against the hard concrete and he groaned, his vision filled with red and black spots. He was getting furious. His backpack and book were on the ground and he watched lazily as the unnamed boy kicked them across the dirty floor, smirking crudely.

The red headed kid, who Dick suddenly remembered to be named Collin, pushed him further up the wall, his face contorted in a crude sort of sneer. "Look, Richard. You and I have a problem."

Dick tried to rip at the boys pale hands. "We… we do?" he struggled to say, though he was pretty sure it came out as "we-ooh?". He tried to rip the boy's hands away, but he was struggling to breath. He tried to kick, but the other boy held his legs down so he couldn't and the muscle that Dick had built up was trying it's hardest to kick the crap outta both of these boys. He glanced around the bathroom. One good thing about them, lots of hard surfaces.

"Yeah, we do. Look, you are just soooo arrogant. Answering all the questions and making us look like idiots." He smashed Dick's head against the wall again. A cry of pain ripped from his throat and he spasmed, kicking out with his legs. The boy grunted with pain, his eyes widening as Dick's leg hit is private area. He fell to the ground, whimpering. Dick felt sorry almost immediately.

"Well," Dick grunted as he was punched in the gut. "I don't know about arrogant and I don't know about making _you_ all look like idiots, _you_ don't seem to need my help with that." Bruce did say he was a little impulsive and at that moment, he couldn't but agree more with that statement. Collin growled in frustration and slammed him on the ground. Dick lot out a cry of pain, his vision was suddenly filled with black spots and a flash of rainbow. He heard a lot of yelling and suddenly he was lifted from the ground abruptly yet carefully and was carried out under someone's arm. He fell asleep soon after that.

* * *

Dick woke up in the nurse's office, a doctor leaning over him and frowning. He had a pounding headache and the lights around him seemed to be flashing in and out of darkness. "Son, are you alright?"

Dick sat up, blinking rapidly, but was pushed down with soft hands back into the pillow. He nodded his throat dry and the taste of dry blood in his mouth. He was handed a glass of water and the doctor leaned away, still frowning as he gulped it down without a breath. He saw a tall woman with frizzy brown hair and cold, black eyes. Her hands were crossed over her chest and her brown suede shirt and skirt glinted dully in the light.

"What happened?" The frizzy haired lady asked, stepping forward as a frown that seem familiar with her face contorted it so she looked like a gawking seagull. The Doctor shot her a warning look. "He may have a concussion, don't be aggressive and if he answers slowly be patient."

Frizzy made no acknowledgement that she heard him.

"Well?" she snapped.

Dick blinked, staring at her. He was unsure of what she said and, for a moment, he simply stared at her with a dazed look on his face. "Uh… what?" Yeah, it was a concussion. He'd dealt with them before but that didn't change the fact that he had one. She sighed and turned toward the doctor. He lazily followed her movements, trying to recount what would have caused this. At first, nothing and then… the fight, or more like the torture. He didn't even really fight. It was more like a lot of kicking and grunting and antagonizing. He got into an encounter with Collin, the redheaded freckly kid from English that looked like he had swallowed a hippo.

"He won't be able to answer for a while," the doctor said to the frizzy woman. He turned to Dick, who watched dully. "Well, Richard, we called your parents but all we got was an answering machine. I recommend relaxing, we will send you home. Do not walk, please son. Call your parents to see if they can pick you up."

For a moment, all Dick could do was stare at the doctor with a frown on his face. Parents? He didn't have any parents, they were dead. He had Bruce, but right now Bruce was too far away to answer the phone. Then he remembered, he was stuck here with fake parents. He glanced up at the doctor, and then looked away. "Yeah, okay I'll call them." He reached out for a phone, his palm straight and open for someone to place it in.

The doctor stared at him, looking very worried. "Don't you have your own?" He asked, leaning forward and squinting at Dick's eyes. They were a hazy blue, instead or their striking cerulean.

"Oh, um, yeah." He slowly reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He pulled it out and watched as the doctor and frizzy haired woman's eyes widened. The frizzy woman glanced down at the Blackberry in her hand, which she was gripping tightly, and looked resentfully back at his. He typed Barbra's number into the number pad, figuring no one would have the number.

It started ringing but before he could react out of panic, a familiar voice pierced the phone.

_"Hello?" _

It was Barbra Gordon's voice, but it wasn't.

"Sorry," he shot out abruptly, causing the frizzy haired woman (he really needed to know her name but he was guessing she was the principal) to jump in surprise. "Wrong number." Then he ended the call and shook his head. He had only _thought _he heard her voice, but it really wasn't her's. It was just someone who sounded like her. They probably weren't even a ginger.

"Let me… let me try that again," he mumbled, typing in 228-626-7625 (which spelled Batman-rock if you spelled it out) and pretending that it was ringing. He then had an elaborate conversation with his mother, telling her that he had been in a fight and was suffering from a minor concussion. He reassured her that she was okay and asked her to pick him up. Just as the doctor tried to talk to her, she had to go.

"Sorry," he shrugged lazily. "She really needs to go. Write a note?"

The doctor complied, albeit reluctantly.

* * *

**EARTH-16: MOUNT JUSTICE 7:15 AM EAST WING, BEADROOMS**

* * *

Wally and Artemis were both staring off into space when he looked over and sighed.

"What?" she asked, looking at the ceiling with obvious disinterest.

"You know what," he inclined, turning over on his bed to stare at her. She sat up, her back now facing him and glanced away.

"I know, I know. I feel it too. It's only been a day and seven hours. You need to calm down."

Wally didn't speak for a while, his eyes scrutinizing as he looked away. It's not that, he thought, it's something else. Turning back on his back he felt a sudden sense of his stomach flipping over, as if he were on a rollercoaster (which were not as amusing as a speedster) and he sat upright, eyes wide and a look of revelation on his face. "Did you feel that?"

Artemis didn't look back at him as she replied, "Feel what?"

He paused and then, "Nothing."

They were both silent, wondering how Robin was doing as he was in another world. Artemis was worried sick about her "baby". Ever since she and Wally had gotten together after months of flirting/not flirting, she had taken to calling him "baby" and "child." He then started calling her "mother" and Wally "father." She would fuss over him, always checking for injuries and then demanding he tell her if he had any affection for girls, knowing that he was with Zatanna. Wally would tell him to do his homework and have good grades and to be respectful to Zatanna.

"Mother, father is being demanding to me!" He would yell, she would fuss, Wally would go defensive, and Aunt Meagan and Uncle Connor would laugh. Overall, it was great and funny and made them feel more like a family.

Wally was feeling irritated that he could do nothing and was blaming himself and telling himself that Dick would be alright, though not knowing if he would. He looked over at Artemis and grabbed her hand. "It's not that I'm worried, though I assure you I am, I mean, we got all that done in a _day and seven hours. _Doesn't it seem a little… weird that we got everything, such as almost finishing the Transporter, done in one day and seven hours? We got back from the mission, told our stories, talked to Black Canary, figured out what was going on, and started and almost finished building the converter-transporter-do-hickey. I mean, doesn't that seem almost a little unrealistic in one day and seven hours?"

Artemis didn't answer as she thought it through. She gripped his hand, biting her lip as she thought about it. "Now that I think about it… yeah. It seems more fit for something you'd read than something in real life."

"Exactly," Wally exclaimed excitedly. "It seemed to pass by in a blur, like it really wasn't happening. I remember it all, doing it, but it just feels like I was in a haze the whole time, like time was speeding up and then slowing down. It feels-"

"-Like it didn't really happen?" Artemis asked, feeling unnerved.

"Exactly."

She shrugged, turning away and standing up, crossing the room to look in the mirror. She peered into it, her grey eyes focused on her reflection. "I don't know, Wally. I guess… it went by so just fast."

"Yeah," Wally interjected quickly, jumping up to stand behind her. "Even for me and normal time for you is like hours for me. It went by fast, and in all honesty I don't really think it should have."

Artemis nodded, staring at his reflection while he stared at hers. "I agree."

"Yes… and… and it was just-"

"Unnerving?" Artemis continued for him. He nodded.

"Unnerving."

* * *

**EARTH PRIME MIDTOWN HIGH SCHOOL, GUIDANCE OFFICE, A FEW DAYS LATER**

* * *

Dick gulped as he stared up at the sign dictating where he was supposed to go. He sighed deeply, fingered his backpack straps delicately and pushed open the door into the school Psychologists office. He hated counselors, especially these kinds. They thought that just because you told them everything, even when you could be lying, that they had the answer to their problem. Tons of people faced this everyday, they said, and with blah blah blah you'll be fine! You just have to believe! Moreover, Dick, for one, strongly disliked it because just because tons of other people faced this, it didn't mean he would too. He was a completely different person, with completely different thoughts, actions and speech. Whatever they said wouldn't comfort them.

In addition, of course, the fact that he was smarter than most of them did not tend to help the situation.

"Yes, may I help you?"

Dick cleared his throat. "Um, yeah… I wanted to, um, talk." He didn't understand why he was so nervous. He should be walking out of here and going home, where he could throw himself into working on his project for Romeo and Juliet and then go out as Robin.

The man, who was sitting at a paper filled, messy desk nodded and pushed his paperwork out of the way. A plaque on the front of the desk says Dr. J. Patriach.

"Of course, of course! Come on, sit down! Let me get my notepad, you don't mind if I write stuff down do you?"

Dick found himself shaking his head. Dr. Patriach was a young man with black hair and green eyes and pale skin, as if he didn't get out a lot. He was wearing a pair of black suit pants and a white, button up shirt with a bowtie, which was red, on top. His black 'MIDTOWN COUGAR SOCCOR TEAM' jacket was thrown precariously over his chair, which a large briefcase was situated next to, which Dick could see was over-flowing with papers. Dick noticed almost immediately that he was just married, lived in Brooklyn and had just bought a new car. His wife was also pregnant and they were picking out colors for the room.

"Great, now, what's your name?"

Dick took his seat, setting his backpack on the ground nest to the large leather chair that was too clunky for the gray-walled, small suffocating office. "Richard Grayson."

"Alright," Patriach scribbled it down quickly on the paper. "Any nicknames? Rich? Richie?"

"Just Richard," Dick sniffed, unwilling to give up his nickname to the man. Patriach nodded in understanding. He leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his legs so that his dress shoes almost touched Dick's backpack.

"Alright, what seems to be the problem?"

"I think I'm depressed," Dick blurted out before he even really knew what he was saying.

Patriach leaned forward, his expression suddenly sullen and worried. "Really? And why would you think that?"

Dick hesitated, leaning forward a bit also. He found himself suddenly so willing to pour out everything that was happening, even the parts about Robin and Iron Man. He found himself wanting to tell the Doctor about coming over here and how he was from an alternate dimension and how he felt so alone and so worried and how he had no one to tell him it was going to be alright when though it probably wasn't.

He carefully chooses his words as he spoke. "I… I feel abandoned."

Patriach nodded for him to continue, unwilling to interrupt. It was best not to interfere.

"And I feel… alone. I feel like my family, my really close family, has abandoned me and I don't know what to do know."

"Like your family has abandoned you? Why is that?" Patriach inquired as he quickly wrote down what Dick said to him.

Dick rubbed his hands together, praying to God to tell him why he was here. Well, as his mother always said, 'God isn't fair, whether that is good or bad for us, we have to find out.' He took a shaky breath. "I feel like that because… I was so close to my family, despite our flaws and fights and our problems and issues-" he chuckled humorlessly "-and I loved, love, them so much. I always wanted to do what my dad did but I feel like he's just left me. Not literally, of course." Lie. "Just in the way where we're not close anymore."

Patriach frowned but nodded, writing it all down. "And, er, stereotype question, but how does that make you feel?"

"Depressed, Dr. Pat-arch, that's why I'm here."

"It's pronounced Pat-re-arch. You can call me Jason, however. Moreover, I am fully aware of why you are here. What I mean to say, is well, how do you feel about this? What are your thoughts?"

Dick flinched and hoped Pat-re-arch didn't see it. "My thoughts? My thoughts are screwing me over. I feel, inside, that they aren't coming back at all. That I'm alone and I'm just… I'm just sad."

Scared. He was so scared and all he wanted was for some one to tell him it would be all right.

"I'm… disappointed." He stated.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: AVENGERS TOWER**

* * *

"Look, Natasha, you need to calm down!"

"Shit Stark, if you think I'm going to calm down then you are insane-"

"I beg to differ, my mother had me tested."

"-and just because Banner thought I bought his story doesn't mean I actually did. Coffee? On your notes? Seriously? You have electronic versions of everything, Stark. I know what you were really doing. You found the kid for SHIELD, didn't you?"

Tony, figuring that she would try and trick him for something, struggled with what to say. Yes, or no, because if he said 'no' than when he did get the kid to come here she would be even more pissed and if he said 'yes' that would be admitting he knew where he was.

"Yes, I found him."

She paused and recoiled, as if not expecting that answer. "Yes? You found him? And you haven't gone to get him?"

Tony didn't smile or smirk. He hated admitting this. "He won't come with me."

"What do you mean he won't come with you?" Natasha's demeanor had returned to what it normally was like; she had returned to cold and demanding. "For heavens sake, you're the goddamn Tony Stark-"

"And I'm not forcing that on him," Tony replied calmly, his voice dangerously low. Natasha made no move toward him. "I'm going to wait until he needs me, and when he does, that'll be the day that I go after him and bring him ho- back."

Home.

He almost said home.

"You better know what you're doing," Natasha remarked and then walked away. Tony sighed, looking away.

He almost said home.

_**To be continued...**_

* * *

**Pace: this is it folks, sorry. It fluctuates but this is mainly where it stays. _I'm not even halfway through the fic guys._ **

***Galway girl: A girl with black hair and blue eyes; generally of irish heritage**

**Sorry for slow update, I made the track team, got a shin splint and now I can't run but still have to go to Practice. **


	15. Hope

**Poll on profile; Pace: Good or Bad? Vote! ((Better than reposting it in reviews!)**

**WARNING: If under the age of 12, do not read this chapter. Chapter contains self-harm. Descriptive. I have never self-harmed, will never self-harm and by no means mean anything offensive by the description given in this chapter. Thank you. **

**Chapter 15: **

* * *

**MARCH 21, 2014 MIDTOWN 6:30 AM**

* * *

"Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me-e. Happy birthday to me," Dick muttered under his breath as he trudged through 39-degree weather on a Thursday morning to school. He held his backpack on his back and his head hung low. He glared up at the overcast sky, willing it away with his cobalt, Pantone eyes. He was fifteen years old today. He wasn't sure what to think about that.

Fifteen years old.

About a year and a half since he had been here. Damn.

He shook his head, because Bruce was still coming and despite how much he didn't want to believe that Bruce wasn't coming, he believed that Bruce was doing something because, hell, Bruce was stubborn. Dick had figured a while ago that he should just simply let everything be and see how everything played out. Besides, life was going good. He'd thrown himself into his studies; he ranked 24 out of 547 students in the ninth grade. He was working on making that 24 become a 20 and then a 15 and then a 10 and then all the way down to 1 because that is what Bruce would have wanted.

He also figured Bruce was the reason he wasn't making any allies. He needed allies, especially if he was in the Hero business. SHIELD and anything related to it was out of the question, simply because of him waking up in the med room with nothing on and then being interrogated. He also did not like that they could simply butt into his life if they wanted, though Tony's offer had come up in Dick's mind so much lately that he was seriously beginning to question why he hadn't taken it. He had heard that there were other Heroes on the West Coast but it seemed they were avoiding the east because of SHIELD, also not wanting to do anything with them. Had Dick had the resources, he would have certainly made contact with them and have made an alliance.

Someone with the name of Daredevil had contacted him but it was for the hero to tell him to let the adults handle it. When Dick heard he was working with SHIELD, he felt disgusted that someone would think that way and promptly cut off all contact.

But Bruce… getting allies, making alliances, making enemies, it just felt like he was too on his own already. He wasn't ready for that. And making those allies would make him feel like he was leaving Bruce behind, something he couldn't handle yet, something he couldn't do but… had.

He had, he found himself thinking as he walked inside the school building. He certainly had grown up and matured over the past year and a half. He was slightly taller by about an inch or so. He had been very turbed* with that. He certainly had longer hair and now he was beginning to wonder whether to cut it because as Robin his hair repeatedly got in the way of whatever he was doing, whether it be fighting a thug or stopping a drug deal from happening. He was now more muscular than before and he guessed being fifteen (which meant KF was seventeen now, he shuddered at the thought) meant you somehow became toner. He was smarter.

Moreover, if anyone were going to question that he would challenge him or her to an argument on Quantum Physics because he knew that now. As of last night, he was a genius of it.

He slipped into his Advisory class just as the bell rang.

He had just… grown, physically and mentally and he wished Bruce could see it. He didn't want his nonexistent allies to see it. He did not want them to care, he didn't want to them to watch him grow and mature. He wanted Bruce to see that. And by getting those allies… he would be betraying Bruce, at least he would in his head. And now, his head was his own worst enemy.

"Richard Grayson?"

"Here," he mumbled under his breath as the teacher nodded her head in his direction. Happy Birthday, he mumbled in his head. He hadn't gone to therapy since that first time. It was pathetic and useless and he could not exactly confess to anything without the counselor making him out to be insane and sending him to a mental asylum. He had long since figured that, with his own determination, he would pull through this. All that crap about "not being able to do it alone" wasn't true and he wasn't alone, he still kept up the tradition of praying before bed like his mother had taught him and, despite how diminished his faith was, he still did it.

Fifteen years old, he berated to himself. He wondered what his parents would say. He knew they would be proud of him, of Robin, but he was depressed (he was working on that though) and lonely and refusing to help himself because of silly reasoning. Fifteen years old and he was stuck in an alternate dimension. He wondered where his cheerful attitude went, where his happiness went, where his calm, childish demeanor was. He wanted it back so he could embrace it and love it and welcome it back into his mind so he was Dick Grayson again, no Robin, no Bruce Wayne, no heroes and no alternate dimension.

He just wanted to be Dick Grayson. He smiled, but it was nothing like his old smiles. He laughed but those short, sharp laughs were nothing like they had been. He talked but with never the same enthusiasm.

It was never as if he were normal, more as if he was living in some teenager's written life about him. They obviously wanted him to suffer by sticking him in an unknown world where everything from the wind to the universe was against him. He was trying to smile more, to laugh more to talk more but with no friends…

Bleh, he straightened in his seat. Screw friends, he wanted to go home. Nevertheless, a year and a half… he could not help but think of Babs and Wally, his two gingers. Babs, he loved her but he guessed that that would be different now. He wondered if she missed him after this long, if she still remembered.

He would never forget her.

* * *

**EARTH 16 MOUNT JUSTICE, EARLY MORNING **

* * *

They were taking a break when it happened.

Miss Martian was sitting on the green couch, curled into Connor's side when she suddenly screamed. Everyone jumped up as she fell on the ground, her eyes glowing green as she clasped her hands against the side of head.

"Robin!" she sobbed. "No! No! Robin!" Her screams were tortured, as if she were watching him be ripped apart. Connor grabbed her by the shoulders, screaming at her. Artemis was standing over them, unsure of what to do other than to just grab Connor and pull him of her. Wally and Aqualad were helping but it was not until Superman rushed over that they were able to get him off. M'gann was lying on the floor clutching her head and moaning.

"No… no… Robin. Please no." She groaned and gave a very shaky sob as Martian Manhunter lifted her back onto the couch. Tears boarded the rims of her eyes as she clutched him tight, sobbing about Robin and how it really needed to stop.

She suddenly went still.

Her eyes glowed green, bright neon-mint green. She stopped crying and moaning and she sat upright, leaning forward as if some sort of trance.

"M'gann?" Zatanna whispered. Just as the galway girl did so, M'gann's green eyes faded into their normal brown and she stood upright. Martian Manhunter went up with her, clutching her by the shoulders and spinning her around so he could see her face. "What did you see?"

She looked like she was in a daze. "I… I saw Robin. He was on the side of a road, lying their torn up in shreds. His costume was in tatters. I saw… I saw him pass through the dimensional portal-" She shivered, curling into her uncle's strong arms. "-I'm surprised I made it out of that sane. I saw a spinning vortex, a thump, thump, thump echoing in my mind. I-" she shivered again, "But I saw him on a road, lying there. He looked beat up bad; he was… outside of New York. I could see the light in the distance." She looked at Batman.

He was staring at her. "That would imply that he has traveled back, I believe you can't see where he is in an alternate dimension, and he can't have traveled back without our noticing because we have the entire earth under watch to see large surges of power. It could also likely be just a mixture of all our emotions and thoughts; you might be subconsciously picking them up and you just had an overload, causing your own mind to create a simulation where you found him."

Wally stepped forward. "Do you want him to not be back?"

Wrong move.

"Of course I want my so- Robin back, but that does not mean that this is the best way to go."

Absent-mindedly, M'gann asked, "Have you told Robin's parents? I'm sure they're worried."

Flash cut in before Batman-or anyone else-could answer. "Well, um, we could at least let them check it out right? It couldn't hurt. We do not even know if our monitors can pick up a surge that strong. Likely, they cannot, and both you and I went over them. Let the kids check it out and we will go from there. Their portal is almost done; we just have to complete one last thing before it is finished. The kids can go and if Robin is there, can bring him back. If not, we'll cross dimensions and rip time apart for the boy."

Wonder Woman put a hand on Batman shoulder. On the outside, you could see no change in his demeanor, on the inside, he felt so relaxed by the touch.

"Fair enough." He turned toward the Team. "Go, I'm giving you 45 minutes. If you're not back by then, we're using the machine."

Aqualad bowed at Batman. "Thank you. We'll come back in thirty." They left to go change. Once all the rest were gone, Wally, who had hung back, hesitated before walking over to Batman.

"I… I'm sorry."

It wasn't an apology for asking whether he wanted his son back.

It was an apology for the fact that he lost his son.

* * *

**EARTH 16 OUTSIDE NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK **

* * *

M'gann landed the Bioship in a large, marshy area. Strangled oak trees with bayoneted branches loomed over them as the Martian led the way to where she had seen Robin. They were all feeling nervous and excited.

"I wonder if Batman told his parents," M'gann wondered again, thinking about what they would think.

"Well, I imagine he would. It's been two days. I don't think he would keep that from them, they are his partner's parents," Artemis pointed out, agreeing with a nod.

Connor snorted. "Some parents. Who in the world would let their son go out and be the partner to the Batman?"

"It's Gotham," Wally replied bluntly, feeling heart-stricken with the current conversation. They didn't know; they might never know. He felt sick in the stomach. Dick had told him that if he ever disappeared or died, Wally would ignore whatever Batman said, he had Dick's permission to tell the team his entire story. Everything. Because they deserved that much. He said after one year. And if that meant one year, that meant one year.

If they ever had a reason to find out, it would be because Dick would be gone for a year and Wally could not handle his Gypsy friend being that long. He felt sick again, swaying slightly in his step. Artemis grabbed onto him. "Are you alright?"

"I just feel sick. Thinking about Robin. How long do you think he'll be gone?"

"He's not going to be gone long," Zatanna snapped suddenly, tears springing to her eyes. The Team stopped, feeling suddenly lost with their thoughts.

"He… he won't be that long. M'gann found him! She's had too!"

M'gann out a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Z, remember what Batman said. It might not even be true; it might just be a mixture of-"

"No!" Zatanna sobbed, falling on the ground and burying her face into her hands. M'gann hugged her tightly, closing her eyes and murmuring, "I know" in Zatanna's ear.

A day and a half, Wally thought sullenly, and they were already falling apart. He agreed with Batman though. This was nothing, this was false. Why were they here?

He leaned down. "Look, Z, there was this thing he always used to say to me when times got tough. He said… he said his mother used to say it. Whenever something is hard and… and this is hard now, believe me I know. He would say, "We can only hope". And that's what we can do, Zatanna, we can only hope."

"Hope. The one thing that never left," she mumbled and Wally figured she was referring to Pandora's Box from the Greek Myth.

"Yes, the one thing we can do now."

She nodded, shakily standing up as Artemis grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's go. Maybe, with hope, he's there."

"Let's hope," Zatanna replied tiredly.

They got there.

He wasn't there.

But they could have only hoped.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME OPERA HOUSE 7:45 PM**

* * *

He was staring down at his bare wrist. He could see his veins crisscross under his skin, pulsing and pushing blood through his body, keeping him alive. He closed his clear blue eyes.

No, he told himself, don't do it.

He opened his eyes and looked back down.

He was sitting on the floor, his legs unable to move. He was curled over himself, breathing heavily as his arm, perched on his thigh, pulsed beneath him. His left palm was faced up, his fingers twitching. His right hand held a Birdarang, sharp and deadly, over his wrist. A weapon that Bruce made him. A weapon he planned to use to harm himself with.

He shivered.

It would release the pain, he said. Then leave everlasting scars to mar the body in which will never fade and you will always see, he argued back. One small flick of the wrist…

He lowered the birdarang closer to his flesh. One small scar, he had so many he would confuse it with the others.

_Get rid of the pain. _

He would not even know it.

_Of course, you will know it; it would be too perfect, too exact. _

He would cut deep, he would mangle it.

_It is just a scar. _

It is not just your life.

The sharp end was touching his skin. He flinched away. It was cold.

He put pressure on it. "Ahh!" He kept going, cutting deep and then it was gone, and he had cut through. He knew what cutting did, he knew it was addictive. But anything, anything, to get away from it. He closed his eyes. It tore into his flesh; he felt a slick sloshing sound, as if someone was ripping open a bag of water and the water was moving around in the bag. He felt a cold substance rolling down his wrist and onto the hard floor. He smelled rust and iron and felt his nostrils burn with the scent.

_Spilling your own blood. _

_It got rid of the pain. _

_For now. _

He put the sharp blade back, slashing through with a cry of tortured pain rip from his throat, but then he smacked his lips together to keep it in. His mind felt numb, numb and relieved. He couldn't feel it. What was he even doing this for? It must be bad.

He slashed down again.

_A scar is but a memory of your life that you have imprinted on yourself, voluntary or involuntary. It will never leave, never fade and you will always see it. _

He opened his eyes, gasping with pain. He threw the birdarang into the wall, imbedding it there. He clutched his wrist and cried. He curled into a ball and sobbed. He should have taken the deal. He fell asleep there.

When he woke up in the morning with dry blood on his wrist and on the floor, he numbly stood up and walked past the empty wall, wrenching the birdarang out of it, blood still caking its sharp end and walked down the empty hallway, stabbing it in front of his door so he would always see it. He cleaned his wrist, put on his sweater, got his backpack on, and went out the building to go to school. He would never cut again but he always glanced at that blood caked birdarang and think of how disappointed Mary and John Grayson would be.

He walked to cool, trudging along the heap of beeping, loud cars that surrounded him. He bumped into people, apologizing at them and then continuing. He watched as life for them went on.

He was staying here.

A year and a half. He still had hoped that Bruce was coming for him, of course he did. He could never let that go. But… he had to admit that he might be staying here. He might have to live here, in the alternate world where everything is wrong, where there is no Bruce.

He would be staying here and, in all honesty, aside from the fact that he would be alone and away from his family, he could live with that. He could get a job soon, a place (a humanly approved habitable one) and continue with school. Maybe, just maybe, he would stay as Robin.

He glanced at a newspaper which was reporting "Robin Exposes Illegal Drug Exchange" in bold black ink on the white cover. Despite his melancholy mood, he grinned. In addition, maybe he would take Tony Stark up on his offer, maybe asking simply for some new tech. Iron Man was big and so were the Avengers. Dick could tell having at least some allies, relation to them would get people, important people like J. Jonah Jameson, on his side.

He might be living here and, honestly, it could not be too bad. Bruce would always be there, looming and pressing on his mind like some sort of anvil from a Farside comic, but at least he could go on.

Here, he could live.

He walked into the Midtown High courtyard and walked over to his shadow-infested wall to lean there. He watched a group of teenagers. A girl with red hair that reminded him of Babs kept looking over at him. He narrowed his eyes. They were talking about him, he could tell.

With his mind now off his staying here, he watched the brown haired one he knew to be called Peter talk with the redhead and the other brown-haired person. They all glanced over at him but he knew they did not know they were watching him because he had his hood up. He frowned again, tilted his head and began playing on his phone.

Then the bell rang. Quietly he slipped up behind him, listening in on their conversation.

All he could do was wish for Wally.

* * *

**EARTH 16 MOUNT WATCHTOWER AFTERNOON**

* * *

"Flash, are you almost done?"

Barry Allen dressed in a red and canary yellow skintight suit. He glanced over at Wonder Woman. "Do I look ready?"

"No."

"Well than, there you go." She glared at him, rolled her eyes and walked away. Batman was finishing the last computerized items of the portal. He glanced over at Wonder Woman taking in her calming smile. He nodded at her, smiling sadly on the inside. He turned toward Flash, picking up a breathing stick, to put it simply.

"You're going to need this too breath. You'll be going too fast for you to breath, even with your enhanced abilities."

Flash looked at him, taking the breathing stick. "How did you know that?"

"I did that math Flash, what do you think?"

Behind him, Superman leaned over to Wonder Woman smirked and said, "Batman-sass."

Flash lifted his hands in mock defense. "Sorry. Okay, so, how do I do this?"

Batman looked back at the portal, ignoring The Team's watchful eyes. He pointed toward the converter. "Basically, all you have to do is connect this cable to your body. You will run around the converter, which will take the friction and energy that you are creating and make it into energy to create the portal. It should take about seven to ten minutes at the most. Any longer we'll have to stop because it'll tear the Watch Tower apart."

"Right," Flash stated slowly. "Wouldn't want that to happen of course."

"Obviously," Batman practically scoffed but then he turned somber as he remembered the seriousness. He might be getting his son back. When the Team had left, he had tried not to get his hopes up. He promised himself he would not and yet, at about fifteen minutes in, he was imaging his son's return, where he would run forward, grab him in a hug, and try not to cry because two days was just too much for him to handle, two days away from his son not knowing if he was alive or okay. When they came back, empty handed and with Zatanna's tears spilled over onto his cheeks, he turned away and began to work. Wonder Woman had tried to comfort him (he was not surprised that she was almost as worried as he was, they had a sort of mother-son relationship. She had once accompanied him to the mother-son dance at Gotham Academy. It had been that or Selina Kyle who Batman was on the verge of making good) but he turned her down because he could not look her in the eye.

"Get ready."

Flash nodded. Batman hooked the wires up to the suit and then checked and rechecked to make sure they were correctly attached. Flash was breathing heavily. He winked in reassurance toward Wally, who smiled sadly at his Uncle.

"I'm turning it on. Don't die," Batman inquired.

Flash opened his mouth to respond, his eyes wide but then the machine began to whir. A crack resounded through the air. There was a large rumbling and the machine began to shake.

"Run!" Batman yelled.

Flash didn't even hesitate. He began to run, becoming a red and gold blur of color. He disappeared. Everyone, swept away by the beauty of the colors and lights, stepped back from the harsh winds he was creating. The machine was getting louder and the winds around them began to roar in their ears. Batman gripped onto some of the kids, holding them tight. Superman and Wonder Woman grabbed the rest of them. Above the machine, a large blue light seemed to have cracked the air. It grew brighter and larger, filling up the room with a thump, thump, thump. M'gann gripped her head and screamed. The portal opened further but then suddenly an echoing crack whipped through the air. Smoke billowed up from the machine. Batman's eyes widened.

"Stop! Stop!" He screamed. Flash by some miracle heard him and began to slow down. The wind has died down and the only sound that could be heard was the machine breaking down and clanking metal. Flash slowed to a stop, turning the stare with wide-eyed horror as smoke filled the Watchtower.

"Get the children in the Zeta's!" Hawk Woman screamed, pulling Superboy and Zatanna toward the Zeta. She punched in the Zeta codes for the mountain, pushing Zatanna in. It announced her exit and then not far after you heard the monotone female voice announce his own exit. As the team was escorted by the Zeta out, both Superman and Green Lantern were trying to get close to the now fiery machine. Batman put on a flame resistance mask and leapt into the flames, attempting to turn off the machine. Aquaman swept out the flames and Flash quickly got rid of the remaining smoke.

In ten minutes, it was all quiet. The wrecked, burnt piece of machine was left in the earlier working one.

Just then, it seemed as if hope had left them.

_**To be continued… **_

* * *

**Next chapter is a surprise for you all! Hope you all like it! Already half written. **

**-Fighter**


	16. Bite

**Not the one you were expecting… but… TADA!**

* * *

**Chapter 16:**

* * *

Peter Parker was not inclined to deal with Flash Thompson at this hour in the morning. Flash, however, seemed to have other ideas this morning. Normally, Peter would avoid him by hiding behind his two best friends, who would then claim they hadn't seen Peter, but that hadn't been an option this morning. Flash was getting used to this, and right now Peter was hiding in an empty Science classroom, the light off and his breathing shallow. Honestly, he didn't really have anything to worry about, the worst Flash could do was slam him against the locker and bully him verbally, maybe add in a few punches here and there, but nothing that Peter was too worried about. Still, he didn't like admitting it, but he was frail and small and sort of a wimp.

He wasn't supposed to even be in the Science Department yet, the administrators didn't want students wandering the building before classes, so most students gathered in the lunch room or outside in the courtyard. Peter had this uncanny ability to sneak past the monitors, especially if Flash was on his tail. He didn't like being dishonest, but truthfully he didn't want another row of bruises on his left arm. Aunt May was starting to ask about it and he didn't want her to worry.

His breathing began to steady itself, and he slowly peeled his off of the back cabinets. He hadn't heard Flash for a solid seven minutes and he was pretty sure it was safe to come out now. Tip-toeing his way to the large door, he heard voices coming from the outside. Suddenly, he felt as if they were coming toward him and he dove, not thinking of the hard linoleum floor, behind one of the science tables and laid there, half sprawled out on the floor, and half of his body pressed against the bottom cabinets. Breathing heavily, he waited for the voices to fade. Eventually they did and once again he waited for his breathing to steady. He couldn't handle big stressful moments; he wasn't one for being slippery- except when it came to those hall monitors.

He jumped out, grabbing the table with his right hand, but then he slipped and fell back on the ground. He was clumsy, too. Rolling over onto his stomach, Peter lifted himself from the floor and completely forgot about tip-toeing or trying to be sneaky; he just wanted to be out of here before he was caught. He slowly opened the door, glancing up and down the hallway and, finding no one, he walked down the hallway to the nearest staircase. Once there, he sprinted down the stairs and out into the courtyard. The school rarely checked the cameras, and when they did it was usually after a dance or some big event was going on.

"Peter!"

Peter pivoted on his heels, sighing in relief as he saw Mary Jane Watson run toward him; his best friend, Harry Osborne, fallowing behind her, smiling and waving at Peter. He grinned, waving back, and jogged over to the ginger girl.

"Hey, MJ," he said, stopping as the two walked up to him, Mary Jane having slowed down to a walk. She smiled and then frowned, shifting her weight to her left leg.

"Running from Flash again?" she asked, her voice lining with a mixture of pity and amusement. Though, it had long since gotten old on her conscience and she had tried to stop Flash repeatedly and despite her best efforts, the blonde haired jock refused to recognize reason. (Peter felt that Flash didn't know the definition of the word "reason").

Peter sighed, nodding his head. Harry rolled his eyes and crossed him arms, coming to stand next to Peter. "The principal hasn't done anything?"

"I don't even think he knows," Peter wheezed, glancing around curiously. "I don't want him to call Aunt May or Uncle Ben; both of them have enough on their plates at the moment."

"Peter," MJ sighed, closing her eyes in frustration, "You should tell someone!"

"You guys know."

"She means besides us, genius," Harry muttered, despite grinning at Peter widely. Peter looked at the both of incredulously.

"And say what? I'm a wimp? Come on, if I want to deal with this I'm going to have to do it myself," Peter sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair, glancing around the courtyard, which was starting to fill up with sleepy yet chatty students. He shrugged them off, turning to then grin broadly toward MJ.

"Excited about the Field Trip?" he wondered, nudging her with his shoulder. She rolled her eyes, though she was grinning slightly too.

"Sure."

"That doesn't sound very excited," Harry remarked, tilting his head in MJ's direction. The ginger shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. Glancing around, Peter took note of the amount of students that had entered the courtyard. He always came to school early, mostly so he could get out sitting awkwardly in the kitchen with his Aunt May in the morning. And he loved school, especially science and math. He couldn't write an English essay for the world but mixing chemicals and what not together was just a heck of a lot more fun. In all honesty, he knew he dressed oddly too. He always had a pen in his front pocket, and his glasses, which were rather large and round like Harry Potter's, and he generally wore a pair of slack-like khakis. MJ had repeatedly but kindly stated that he needed a new wardrobe and Harry had commented, rather bluntly, that it was one of the main reasons Flash bullied him.

"It wasn't," MJ replied, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.

"Oh come on, this lab we're going too is like the most technologically advanced. They've conducted so many successful experiments there, a lot of their notes and projects are really cool too. I've studied them; they're actually not that hard. Did you know that-"

"Hold up there!" Harry laughed, "Before you go on and on about something that, honestly, I really don't care about, how about you hide behind me?"

Peter stared at Harry blankly. "What for?"

MJ pointed behind him and just as he spun around on his heels he saw a large, burly blonde headed figure stalking toward him.

"Parker!" Flash Thompson snapped, a nasty smirk on his face. "I've missed you today."

"It's only seven in the morning," Peter drawled, slowly inching backward.

"Potato patato, big deal," Flash remarked, stomping up to Peter. He got right in his face, bending down ever so slightly. Peter was forced down just a tad bit as Flash over did it, just so he'd have to loom over Peter, casting his shadow over him. Flash didn't touch him, but Peter knew that it was only because coming out of the door right was one of the English teachers. Vaguely, Peter wondered how Flash's dull sense of surroundings worked out so he could notice the teacher. He guessed it was like a sixth sense that depicted danger.

"I still missed you."

"Um… I'm feeling that's very one sided," Peter inclined, wincing as Flash's hand twitched toward him, still in fist-mode

"Whatever Parker. After school, got it?" Flash leaned back, away from Peter and allowing him to stand up straight. Peter sighed slowly in relief. He nodded vigorously as Flash pushed him lightly, well Flash's version of lightly, on the shoulder. Stumbling back, Peter was grateful that MJ and Harry were standing behind him; they both reached out and steadied him. MJ was glaring daggers at Flash, though it seemed to have no effect on him. Harry looked mostly impassive, though Peter knew he was gritting his teeth and that his muscles were tense.

"Okay, alright, got it; after school, I'll be there," Peter inquired quietly, his voice shaky even though Flash hadn't even really done anything.

"Good, come on Randy."

Randy, a large burly African-American boy, was standing behind Flash with a look of pit on his face. Randy was a good kid, but even he couldn't stand up to his best friend. Peter liked Randy, and was grateful for the time he had warned him about Flash's coming, but he was still a bit bitter that he couldn't stand up for him in front of Flash. Obviously, his place and reputation was more important than Peter. Peter and Randy locked eyes, and Randy nodded briefly. He grabbed Flash on the shoulder.

"Come on man, don't bother," Randy said in a deep, low voice. Flash scowled but then nodded, turning and walking away. Of course, Peter had been hoping that he would be in the school long enough so when the time came to get out, a teacher would either already be out, or come out moments after.

"Ugh, I really, really don't like him," MJ snapped, scowling after Flash.

"I _hate_ him," Harry said, going all out. MJ seemed to have this thing with saying the word 'hate' to describe someone. She refused to say hate, often adding a lot of 'really's' when she didn't like someone. Peter sighed, glancing back at both of them.

"Yeah, but he's just insecure."

"Doesn't mean he can pick on you," Harry pointed out, looking very thoughtful at the moment. "By the way, my dad upped my allowance. You guys wanna go out to some really fancy place so we can make fun of people tonight?"

"Sure," MJ agreed.

"One of my favorite past times!" Peter smirked shyly, turning away briefly toward the far wall where he saw the freshmen with the ebony hair and tan skin, leaning against the wall and almost blending with the shadows. There was no group of friends around him and Peter vaguely remembered him from when he's walked into Mr. Clapper's room to get back his phone. Mary Jane caught Peter's eye and sighed loudly. Harry was too busy texting at the moment, but glanced up at her sigh and saw where both of them were looking.

"I feel bad for him," Mary Jane remarked, her eyes conveying pity. Harry shrugged.

"I think he's sort of creepy. I mean, the kid has no friends!" Harry exclaimed loudly, earning a few looks from the people around them and two "shhhs!" from Peter and MJ.

"Shut up, he might hear you!" MJ inclined, pushing Harry in his shoulder, causing the already dysfunctionally coordinated teenager to fall on the ground. Peter burst out with laughter and MJ was trying to stifle her own burst of laughter, using her hand to muffle her snickers, and the other to reach out and grab Harry's. Harry, however irritated, was smiling slightly and trying to hold it in, making him look like he was trying to combine a nasty smirk and a grin together in one sort of gruesome grimace. When Peter looked at Harry, he began to laugh even harder, bending over to cough as his throat began to tickle.

The bell suddenly rang, letting out a shrill loud echoing sound. Students, plus the three, began to file into the school. The continued talking about the boy, not realizing that he was right behind them, listening to their every word.

* * *

Peter and Mary Jane walked into their science class the moment second bell rang. They had left Harry for their teacher, because they were both in AP Biology, while Harry was just in Biology, slightly behind because of his poor grades from last year. Peter took his seat behind Flash, who had somehow made it into the class because of Peter being bullied into doing his homework for him last year. Mary Jane sat down in the front, next to a girl who was leaning over one of those Anime-type books. Peter sighed, watching as his teacher wrote down things they needed to remember on the board.

"Now," Mr. Donovan said, turning around. "You all know we are going to see Horizon Labs, one of the most technologically advanced labs in the country. As you all know, we've been working on the effect of radioactive materials on animals, insects, and arachnids. You've all studied WWII correct? And the dropping of the A-bomb on Hiroshima?"

Everyone nodded. Flash yawned loudly.

"Alright, well then you know that cancer rates in Japan and in New Mexico, where they originally tested the bomb, went up. So, at 7:30 they will call us up. Take notes guys!" Mr. Donovan smiled and clapped his hands together, picking up a miniature lunch bag. He sat down on his chair and began to check his phone. Peter slipped down in his chair, fumbling with the ink pen in his hands, wondering when 7:30 would come. He concentrated on the back of MJ's head.

Heed my psychic mind rays, he thought toward her.

She glanced back, causing Peter to jump back in surprise. She grinned, motioning for him to come up there. He glanced around. Students had already begun to move, plug in headphones (which were neither heads nor phones) or bring out phones to text or read. Peter shrugged, picking up a tattered navy blue Jansport backpack over to Mary Jane. The girl reading anime beside her scooted over irritably. Peter blushed red, mumbling an apology as he took the empty chair next to that girl and moved it next to MJ. The ginger watched amusedly.

"7:30 too long for you?" She asked.

"Way, way too long, if you ask me," Peter inclined, leaning over by perching his elbows up on his knees. He glanced up at the clock, scrunching his nose. Mary Jane followed his gaze and laughed.

"That's only ten minutes away. I think you can handle that!"

"Maybe or maybe not."

"What do you mean 'maybe not'? What would happen?" She asked, suppressing giggles. The anime girl was glaring at them every few seconds.

Peter shrugged, glancing back at the clock. He wondered how Harry was doing in his class and then he glanced back at Mary Jane, forgetting all about Harry. "I don't know. The world would end maybe? Pigs would fly? Um… we find a habitable planet which can sustain human live for more than a few minutes?"

"I doubt the world would end. Pigs have flown… in books. Never ever, Peter."

"MJ!" He nudged her in the shoulder.

She laughed, throwing her head back and pushed him away. He grinned. "Watch it Tiger!"

The anime girl huffed loudly, causing both of them to turn to look at her. "Just get a room already!" And then she went back to reading her book. Both Mary Jane and Peter went flushed deep red. Peter automatically sat up and leaned away, picking up the strap of his backpack to set it on his khaki covered legs. He picked at a loose seam, staring down the clock. Mary Jane was staring at Peter. They sat like that for several minutes.

Mr. Donovan stood up. "Alright class! 7:30! Let's go. Take everything with you, everyone brought a lunch correct? Good, remember; there is no eating in the lab!"

Everyone stood up. The sound of chairs scraping the linoleum floor filled the room and Peter stood up, standing Next to MJ and watching as she checked to see if her camera had batteries. "All good!" She announced happily, slipping the expensive camera in her bag and walking toward the door with Peter. Mr. Donovan stood there, watching the students with crossed arms. Peter threw his backpack over his shoulder, standing there giddily. He was excited and had been telling Uncle Ben and Aunt May about it for the past two weeks. Both of them were so proud of Peter and Aunt May had admitted to him that he reminded her of his father, who had been as good in science as Peter was. Despite what he knew of his parents, Peter felt quite proud of the fact.

"Let's go!"

The students filed out of the room into the hallway, blending into the rest of the Junior classes. Finding Harry, Mary Jane and Peter faded into the back, walking behind the large group of upperclassmen. The group walked down into the courtyard where three buses waited to be filled up. Peter felt bubbles rise in his chest.

"Gosh, I'm so excited."

Harry grumbled. "If there was hell on earth this would be mine."

Mary Jane shot him a look, feeling slightly angered. "Oh get over it Harry, it's not that bad. All you have to do is walk around, stare at things and listen to your music."

Harry shrugged. "True." Peter laughed at Mary Jane offended look.

"In the buses everyone! Mr. Donovan's and Mrs. Lane's class come over here in bus number two!"

"Well isn't that something," Mary Jane muttered. "We're all in the same bus."

"Do you want us to not be together?" Harry asked, chuffed about the comment from earlier.

"Of course not!" Mary Jane exclaimed. "I'm just saying it's funny. Hardly ever happens."

Peter leaned forward to look at Harry, giving him an agreeing look. "Sort of true you know."

Harry smirked. "Yeah. I know."

The boarded the bus, all three of them squeezing into the two person seats. Peter, calling the window seat, was stuck next to Mary Jane, who was squashed in between Harry and Peter. Both Harry and Peter smiled at her apologetically and she rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile, in return. It was a good fifteen minutes of Peter's leg twitching up and down, MJ shifting her position and Harry almost falling off before Mr. Donovan and Mrs. Lane came on the bus to take attendance. Once that was done, it was another five of Flash Thompson arguing with the bus driver about turning on the radio before they finally set off with 99.5 playing on the radio softly in the background. Students were already speaking too loud for you to hear it.

"About that kid-" Harry began. MJ almost bit his head off.

"Leave him alone! He's probably depressed or something. I feel terrible." She smiled sadly out the window.

"And? Why is he depressed, teen have no reason to be. It's stupid."

Mary Jane went rigid. Peter was looking at Harry skeptically as if he couldn't determine whether or not that had really escaped his mouth.

"No reason! No reason! Are you serious? Depression is a problem that teenagers face everyday! They are self-conscious of their body and what others will think of them. It's a mental issue, Harry. They aren't happy, they have no friends and they really don't know what else to do but berate themselves. It's sad and it's lonely. Don't you dare say for no reason! That's like saying people have no reason to cut themselves. In their eyes they do because it's the only way to get rid of the pain in their lives. If you ever say anything like that I again you can forget this friendship!"

Harry was staring at Mary Jane with wide eyes. Slowly he put up his hands in defense but then nodded. Peter was looking out the window, watching as the people of New York passed around the bus. Drivers stared up at the buses irritably and construction crews that were fixing the damage from the battle last year stared at the buses as if they made life that much difficult.

He glanced at Harry and MJ, both of which were staring in opposite directions with their arms crossed over their chest. Peter rolled his eyes. Soon the left the busy streets of New York to a less crowded area near Central park. They parked outside a large building made of steel and glass. A sign on the outside was labeled Horizon Labs, small shrubbery and bright spring flowers lined the large sidewalk that led up to the building with high marble steps. There was an elevated platform that lined sliding doors and then on the inside, just barely through the sunlight, you could see a very nicely decorated foyer.

The students filed out of the buses, waiting for the teachers to get the guide.

"This place looks great!" Peter exclaimed. Mary Jane smiled, snapping a picture of the building and the sign.

"Get in, get in!" She said excitedly, pushing them in front of her camera. Just as she was about the snap the photo Flash jumped in the way, making a rocker face and then ran out, laughing hysterically. He high-fived Sally, his girlfriend. Mary Jane rolled her eyes.

"Again." Then she snapped the picture of Peter and Harry posing in front of the building. The one just of Peter and then the rest of them. Both Mary Jane and Harry seemed to have gotten over their argument from before.

Just then, as Peter turned to walk over to MJ to see the pictures, he ran into a blonde girl carrying a stack of files into the lab.

"Oh sorry!" Peter exclaimed, reaching down to pick up the files. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Don't touch those!" the girl shrieked, throwing herself on the ground to pick up the files. She pushed Peter's hand out of the way, picking up the files quickly. She glanced up at Peter.

"I'm so sorry! Those are… those are, um… sorry. I'm Gwen."

Peter helped her up. "Peter Parker. Sorry for running into you."

"Oh no!" Gwen exclaimed. "It was my fault. I should have looked where I was going. Besides, if I hadn't forgotten these files this morning I wouldn't have had to come out here and get them and if I hadn't had to come out here to get them then I wouldn't have, uh um you know… come out to get them."

Mary Jane scoffed loudly.

Peter waved Gwen off. "It's alright. Either way, had you forgotten them or not I ran into you. Sorry. Do you work here?"

Gwen glanced at the building appreciatively. "Internship. I go to Brooklyn High and I work for Dr. Connors."

Peter looked like a blind man seeing the light. "Really? I've read his work! Brilliant isn't it?"

Gwen nodded. "Oh yeah, you should see some of the stuff that he hasn't published yet. Excellent and brilliant. The man's a genius."

"Yeah."

They stood there for a few moments. Mary Jane and Harry watched apprehensively. Gwen shifted her weight and then glanced back at the building. She glanced at a watch on her wrist. "Oh crap, I gotta go! I was supposed be back in Dr. Connor's lab two minutes ago. Um, I'll see you around Peter Parker! Bye!" She ran off up the steps and into the lab. throwing open the door and rushing inside. Peter followed her until she disappeared.

"Can you feel the love tonight! It's in the evening air!" Harry sang. Peter grumbled and punched him the arm. When he looked away, MJ stepped on Harry's foot. Harry fell on the ground, eyes wide. When Peter looked back, all he saw was Mary Jane standing over Harry with an unamused face contorting her features and Harry collapsed on the ground holding his foot.

Peter could guess what had happened but what for he was unsure.

"Midtown High School!"

Everyone turned to see a man about thirty with bright red hair was toward them in blue jeans, white shirt and a white lab coat walking toward them with his arms wide open. "Is this Midtown High?"

Shouts of, "yes!" and "aw yeah!" filled the air.

The man grinned. "Alright, alright. Quiet down please! My name is Michael Dawson and welcome to Horizon Labs! Today we'll be touring the Animal and Insect lab. Horizon labs is diverse lab with many duties and standards that are filled everyday by the doctors working here. Did you know, Horizon Labs was the first lab to splice a spider gene?"

"No!" Someone yelled mockingly.

Dawson chuckled. "Well now you do! Now, if you would please follow me!"

He lead them up the steps and into the labs. The front foyer was just a service desk and a lounge. Bathrooms were out the right and an elevator was on the left. There was a hallway down past the service desk with a sign that said "Lab Section 1A" and to the right of that was the cafeteria. Peter stared at the Lab Section 1A sign. Right behind the service desk was the way the building was laid out. Floors were actually labs that covered the entire floor and labs were labeled A or B or C for what branch they studied. Each letter was like a sub-lab, each lab working on different parts for the main project.

"Now," Dawson began. "There is only two elevators so we'll have to walk up the steps-" he pointed to the left. "-and so it might take a while to get to the eighteenth floor."

Everyone groaned.

They began walking up a glass staircase. The small stair was filled up with beeps and talking and foot steps on the glass. Dawson led them up, taking and pointing out what the different labs did on each floor. Peter was right behind him, soaking it all in. Mary Jane was snapping pictures and Harry was checking Twitter.

After a good five minutes, they finally cam to the eighteenth floor. Dawson opened the door and they walked in.

There were massive tables with cages of lizards, spiders and bugs all being watched, observed and recorded. In the middle was a large steel circular object that had very thin ropes going up and down in the middle. It was surrounded by glass.

Dawson turned around. "This, students, is Dr. Connor's lab. He is one of the most influential scientists here at Horizon. He works mostly with lizards but and splicing genes and using radiation to see what the effect has on them. As you can see, we have many animals caged. Most of which have been radioactively experimented on or are going to. Ah! Here come Dr. Connor's himself!"

The group clapped, more bored than anything else.

A balding blonde man with only one are walked up to the group. He wore a pair of black pats and a blue work shirt. Over that, he wore a white lab coat with a name tag that said 'Dr. Connors'. Behind him was Gwen, the blonde girl from before. When she saw Peter she waved ecstatically. He waved back, grinning. Next to him, he heard MJ angrily stuff something into her bag.

Dr. Connors began a long speech about what they did there at Horizon. He told them about some of the many things he saw lizards do once having radiation in their system. He told them about the twenty spiders that all had the most enhanced spider abilities. He showed them the cage where they were kept, explaining how they were the most advanced hybrid species of spiders on the planet. Each spider had the absolute best arachnid abilities all combined into one.

As they walked on, MJ said, "You get this stuff so much better than I do Peter, I can hardly follow!"

He grinned, watching as she snapped a picture of the spider cage. They stood there for a few seconds. Frowning, she raised her hands.

"And over here we have oh, er, yes?" Dr. Connors looked at MJ curiously.

"Uh, yes Dr. Connors? There are only nineteen spiders here. I thought you said there were twenty."

Dr. Connors and Gwen frowned. Gwen rushed over there, almost dropping her clipboard, and leaned over the cage. "She's right Dr. Connors. Only nineteen."

"Hm. I believe one of them was most likely taken out for further testing," Dr. Connors explained, smiling slightly. MJ nodded, thought she looked skeptical. Dr. Connors went on explain the weather manipulator.

Just as they were about to move on, Peter felt an awkward prick in his neck. He frowned, slapping it almost instinctively with his hand. He felt something but he brushed it away and rolled his shoulders. It was probably just a muscle thing. They moved on.

Eventually, the class was able to spread out through Lab Section 18A permitted to ask questions. Gwen wandered over to Peter, who was leaning over a lizard with glowing red eyes and two green spikes sticking out of it's back. She scrunched up her nose, shrugging her white lab coat on.

"Looks weird doesn't it?"

Peter nodded. "Cool more like. Do you like working for Dr. Connors?"

Gwen glanced at him as he began explaining what the glass case was to Flash. Peter heard the words radiation and expansion. "Oh yeah it's great, really. He can get really eccentric about things it's really funny. Sometimes he's a bit, erm, moody but that's only when something fails. Doesn't happen too much so it's alright."

Peter nodded. "I thought about doing something here but really can't. Too bad too, I would have loved to."

Gwen smiled at him. "It would have been nice. You should try sometime. All the other interns are douche bags. I mean honestly, I think the intellectual level of those guys doesn't always correspond with the rest of their brains."

Peter grinned, laughing. Gwen began to laugh too. Just then, Mary Jane and Harry came over. Mary Jane jutted her jaw toward Gwen. "Hi."

Gwen smiled kindly. "Hi! I'm Gwen!"

"Mary Jane."

"Harry Osborn," Harry said lazily, turning back to his phone. "Dammit no signal."

Gwen pursed her lips at him. "Yeah, not inside the labs. Sorry. And by, um, Osborn, do you mean Norman Osborn like in, um, OsCorp?"

Harry nodded. "Unfortunately."

Gwen didn't say anything, turning back to Peter and Mary Jane. "So, do you guys like the labs?"

Peter nodded, turning back toward the lizard, whose eyes were no a faded blueish green. Mary Jane glanced around. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. What's that glass thing there for?"

Gwen turned around to look where Mary Jane was pointing. She looked at it for a few seconds before turning back toward the ginger. "Oh, that's where we put the animals for the radiation testing. The ropes you see there are actually miniaturized pipes that can emit the radiation. We can only turn on certain pipes to regulate the level of radiation. There's an equation for it, but I can't remember-"

"Isn't it R=PA squared?" Peter asked.

Gwen stared at him, looking taken aback. "Um, yes."

Peter nodded, staring at the case. "Thought so. It's really big for such small animals."

Gwen nodded, clutching the clipboard to her thighs. "Yeah, I'm not sure why that is. I'm not permitted to work it, because I'm an intern you know, and it's far too complicated for me."

Dr. Connor's suddenly called for everyone's attention. Gwen glanced at them apologetically. "Gotta go, sorry!"

"We need to clear the labs for lunch now please! Dawson lead the students down the stairs again. My scientists you can exit by the side doors."

Everyone began to file out. The scientists were gone before the students were, but Dawson and the teachers had taken care of that.

"Wait!" Peter exclaimed. "MJ, can I borrow you camera, I wanna take a few pictures of the radiation thing!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah sure. Don't lag too far behind!"

Peter scratched his neck. "I won't." She handed him the camera and, dodging past irritable students, he found himself back in the lab. He turned on the camera and snapped a picture of the hauntingly blue lit case. "This is the coolest thing ever," he murmured. "If only I could get a few inside."

He glanced around. There was no one there and there was no one to turn the thing off. He shrugged. Walking over to where there was a steel handle on the insulated glass door, Peter tugged. Glancing to the side, he found you needed a Horizon Labs key card. He glanced at one of the many cluttered tables in the room. Smirking, he found one on the table and slid it through, tossing it back when a green light came on and he heard a resounding click! Opening the door quickly, he slipped inside. He glanced around.

It was completely black. Neon blue light crept eerily from above and below. The thin "pipes" were stretching from top to bottom, connected to a steel cylinder that obscured where they went. He took a deep breath and snapped a photo. He scratched his neck again and then rolled his shoulders, feeling an uncomfortable pain in his back. Shrugging it off, he slowly reached out to touch one of the pipes. It was flexible, thin and extremely tight. Just as he plucked it and let go and twang! sounded through the compartment. He looked around, wishing he could see outside. He turned the camera off and stuffed it in his pocket. Using both hands this time, he grabbed a handful of pipes. They were cool and made his hand feel as though he were touched condensed air.

Shaking his hand, he let go and slowly open the door, not needing a key card to exit. He slipped out and ran down the stairs, looking at the pictures as he walked down. He got back down to the main foyer, opening the door and walking nonchalantly to the service desk.

"Can you tell me where Midtown High is eating lunch?"

The lady at the desk looked up and pointed to her right where two double doors were situated with the words "Café" in big bold Horizon blue and yellow letter labs above it. He slipped inside and sat down next to MJ and Harry once he found them.

"Get pictures?" MJ asked.

Peter nodded, handing her the camera. "Yeah, what's for lunch?"

"Food," Harry inclined, grinning.

"What kind of food?" Peter questioned.

"Edible food," Harry replied.

"So, not your food?" Peter teased. Harry glared at him and Mary Jane laughed. Peter, feeling a tap on his shoulder, turned around.

It was Gwen. She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "So, um, hi Peter. I just, uh, wanted to give you my number, you know, in case you wanted to keep in touch." She put out a slip of paper with a few numbers written on it. Peter stared at it, taking it slowly.

"Yeah, sure. Do you want mine?"

She nodded and then stopped rather short. It had been a little to exaggerated. "Yes please."

He wrote it down on a napkin with the pen in his front pocket. "Here you go!" He smiled at her.

"Okay, well, thanks Peter! I'll see you around!"

"Yup!" He waved goodbye to her as she walked out of the café. He turned back to Mary Jane and Harry. Harry was grinning like an idiot and Mary Jane was stabbing her meat with her fork, over and over.

"You okay MJ?"

"Perfect," Mary Jane hissed.

Peter and Harry glanced at each other and then shrugged. Girls.

Peter scratched the back of neck again. He would have to check that out when he got home.

_**To be continued… **_

* * *

**Was this what you were expecting?**

**This chapter was originally chapter 21 but due to the question of pace I added it here and will incorporate it into the chapters that were meant to lead up to it. Question: Where the characters in character? What the writing/pace good? **

**6,070 words including AN's. 10 pages on word. 6 of which were written in one day. Not good, but spent most of the time editing. **


	17. Found

**Remember, last chapter was meant to be chapter twenty-six. I will be switching back to two months ago once this chap was finished so we can see what happened to Peter. He will be meeting Peter in the next few chapters, I have rewritten what I had planned for the fic. I might go back when no one is reading and rewrite it to be the way I originally wanted but right now, it is the faster pace. Well, going to be faster. I do not want to lose my readers so, I am appeasing you. He will meet the Avengers not long after Peter, maybe four or five chapters. Also, sorry not sorry for the Spitfire. Thank you. **

* * *

**Chapter 17: TWO MONTHS LATER; MAY 2014**

* * *

Robin jumped up, grabbed the pole and swung around to hit the SHIELD agent in the face. The agent fell back onto the dirty, wet pavement. He was unconscious.

Robin turned around, facing three other agents. He growled at them and clenched his fists. One of them took a step forward; his hands open up so you could see his palms. Robin was having a hard time though, it was rainy and cloudy and he was tired. He wanted to go home and go to sleep.

"Come with us, SHIELD will not harm you," the Agent said.

Robin scoffed, almost falling over, as he stood upright. "Yeah, when Hell freezes over."

The Agent scowled. Robin got back into position. It was dark out; this was when Batman's training came in. He suddenly slipped into the shadows, edging around them. He wanted to run away, to flee but he was too proud. He wanted to show SHIELD he was defiant, he wanted to show them he wasn't going to run away when they came to face him. Call it stupidity or not he was staying here and he was going to show them who was in charge of him.

He jumped out pf the shadows, cackling with glee. Two agents spun around at his laugh, shocked looks on their faces and then jumped into action, coming at him. He jumped up, using one agents head as a springboard and launched his self over her to hit another in the chest. The agent fell to the ground, his helmet hitting the concrete with a crack and a splash. He spun around, punching the female agent in the head and then in the chest and in the stomach. He agent fell over and then he flipped around, hitting her with a roundhouse kick in the side of the face. She fell over. The other agent ran at him and he dove under the agents legs, throwing an exploding Batarang in the agent's jetpack.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep, beep, beep.

BOOM.

The agent was thrown into a brick building. Robin, having held up his cape to cover himself, stood up and watched a small trail of blood be washed away by the rain. He smirked. It was too easy, SHIELD really needed to step up it's game. Fury was in for one hell of a fight. He turned around, only to be greeted with a kick to the face with a steel-bottomed boot. He fell to the ground, crying out in pain. Another agent stood over him, large a burly and grinning as he saw Robin wipe away the blood that leaked from his mouth.

Robin rolled onto his back and pushed up with his hands, flipping over to land on his own feet. He glared at the agent. Dang it.

"If SHIELD wants you, kid, SHIELD's gonna get you."

Robin glared harder. "Yeah, okay. Good for SHIELD. Into kidnapping now are they?"

The agent yelled and lunged at him. Robin flipped over him, hitting him in the back with his collapsible Bo staff. The agent screamed as the cold metal made contact with the pressure points in the back. He landed on the ground with a thud. Robin stood up, breathing heavily. You could see his breath. Wasn't this May?

The man stood up. Robin's eyes widened, that should not be possible. He should not be able to stand up. He should be lying on the ground unable to move his body. This man must not be completely human. Robin leapt into the shadows, watching; analyzing.

The man looked around, scowling. He touched his ear gruffly with his ham-hands.

"Lost him, he does seem to have disappeared."

Pause.

"Of course, sir."

He must have been talking to Fury. The Angry Pirate must really want to find him. Robin glanced around at anything he could use to his advantage. In his belt, he had smoke pellets that either would be useless by the rain or strengthened by the rain. He had his Bo staff, Batarangs of all kind. Bombs, C4, grappling gun and hook, taser, and a few more items would be useful, he knew. He slipped out two Batarangs and the taser. Jumping out, he threw two Batarangs at the man. They cut into both of his arms, blood straggling out. The agent hissed in pain and jumped at Robin, punching him the face.

Robin fell backward.

The agent kicked him in the stomach. He groaned. The agent picked him up and elbowed him in the face. Robin sent a weak uppercut at the man, only causing the agents head to snap back a tiny bit but then the agent threw him on the ground. He grabbed the taser out of Robin's weak grasp.

"No…" he mumbled.

The agent grinned, leaning over the puddle that Robin was laying in.

"Please…" he begged, hacking loudly. The man turned the taser on and Robin vaguely heard the cackling of electricity. He suddenly was convulsing, he felt sparks fly up and down his body. His vision became spotted with black spots and he felt weak.

"Pl… please!" he felt himself wail. As his vision danced in and out of view, looking like the fuzzy screen Superboy had liked to watch, he saw the agent stand up and throw the taser on the ground. Robin screamed, adrenaline pumping suddenly through his body. He rolled himself out of the puddle, using the momentum to pop up on the sidewalk. It suddenly stopped. He breathed, waiting for his vision to clear. That thing had enough electricity and power to stop Superboy, he should not have survived. He should be dead. He closed his eyes, his head pounding.

After what felt like forever, he shakily stood up. He knew he would not make it back home and in this rain, he knew he would not even be able to find it. He picked himself up and walked over to an alley. He cried out in pain, collapsing on the ground. Whatever that agent did, he damaged his leg so bad he could hardly walk on it. He pulled out the civvies he held in one of the pouches for special cases. Under the cover of one of those porch coverings, he slipped out of his Robin costume and into his civvies. He felt the blood pour from his lips and saw the cuts and bruises and burns. He groaned, sliding down the wall and onto the ground. Glancing around, he saw a group of people walking across the street.

"Help!" he choked out sadly. "Please!" He called aloud, his vision fading into black.

"Please, Bruce."

* * *

**EARTH 16, WATCHTOWER LATER THAT DAY**

* * *

They'd begun reconstructing the portal.

Flash and Batman were working like lunatics, their failure getting to their hearts and heads. The team was not allowed up again, the League felt they did not need to see it if they failed again. Wonder Woman was standing there, watching as Batman and Flash conversed on how they would up the MPV's, whatever those were.

"Clark," she murmured, knowing he could hear her. "Get your butt over here."

Superman flew up, looking worried.

"Are you fed up with this?" she asked, staring as Green Arrow connected two wires together with a blue spark.

"No." Clark paused a moment. "Are you?"

"No. Well, I'm tired of working."

"Don't you want Robin back?" Clark hissed, looking greatly offended. He stared at her incredulously.

Wonder Woman waved him off. "Of course I do, like I said before that kid is like my son. But this!? This is too excessive! Clark, do you know that saying about insanity?"

"No."

She laughed dryly. "It's that saying that goes, 'Doing the same thing over and over and expecting the same results is called insanity'. Bruce is…"

"Doing the same thing over and over, gottcha."

"It's not even that Clark. He has only done it once, but if he thinks that, we are going to just keep trying and trying again than he is sorely mistaken. I know he wants Dick back, so do I."

"This conversation feels familiar," Clark stated, smiling a bit.

She laughed humorlessly. "Indeed. I suppose I just need to vent. That is the correct term and usage of context, correct?" She glanced at him.

He nodded, smirking. "Yes."

"Good, come on we better get down there before Bruce bites our heads off for just floating here." Clark began to laugh.

"That sounds so odd, you know. 'Floating here'. We just sound so…"

"Not normal?" Wonder Woman asked.

Clark laughed outright this time. "Not normal."

* * *

Wally was pacing the length of the entertainment room. He threw his hands up in the air.

"They aren't telling us anything!"

Aqualad stood up, his face calm but his emotions running wild. "Wally, calm down. I realize that you are irritated, I am as well but we must remain pa-"

"Patient?" Connor asked, standing up and folding his arms over his chest. "Remember the deal? Get on board or get out of the way. He's our teammate and we-"

"And he's Batman's son," Artemis interjected, furrowing her brow confusedly. "I don't think he wants to tell us anything because he doesn't want to get our hopes up; I don't think he can handle us getting let down because then he has physical proof that he hasn't found Robin yet." She shifted to look at Wally, Aqualad and Connor. They founded the team with Robin; they were the ones to first work together as a team. She came in late, she came in unwelcome, an intruder. However, that boy had that stupid happy go luck attitude that did not go well with her background and now she looked at him as if her were the brother she never had.

"I agree with Kaldur," she nodded at Aqualad. "We need to wait."

M'gann stepped forward. "Me too, come on Wally. Two days and a half, not too bad. He's… he's Robin, he'll be fine."

"He's still only thirteen," Wally replied meekly. "He's too young."

Artemis walked over and gave him a hug, looking in his green eyes. "Wally, that boy kept me calm while all of you were being kept by the Red's. He told me to "get traught or get dead". That kid has been doing it for four years. He has been doing it since he was nine. Nine, Wally. Robin can handle this, he works in Gotham. I live there; I know what he goes through. He… he is a tough little badass and he can do it. I know he can, you know he can. He's young, but he's so old."

Wally smiled sadly. "You guys have never seen his eyes, have you?"

They all shook their heads. Zatanna looked up.

Wally chuckled. "He has these… these blue eyes and… and they're so innocent. He looks younger than thirteen. But then… but then you look in and he's just so broken. He looks like he's seen a thousand sins and… he has."

"You know who he is?" M'gann asked, floating toward Wally with her hand out to touch his shoulder. Wally looked up, grinning weakly.

"Yeah and… he said," Wally suddenly choked, wiping a lone tear away. "He said I could tell you guys who he was and… and his past. After a year. He never expected to last a year if he was kidnapped or anything."

"That little shit," Artemis muttered. He had even prepared what to do if he died. He was a bat and he was prepared for everything, even his own death. "You think he came to terms with the fact that he might die after he'd been in Gotham for a while."

Wally looked up at her sadly. "He came to terms with that before he even met Batman."

No one had the heart to ask what Wally meant by that. The ginger stood up and grabbed Artemis's hand. "I know I shouldn't be mad at Batman but, we deserve to know. He's my best friend and-"

Artemis kissed him abruptly. "And our little brother."

Wally grinned. "Our little brother."

* * *

**EARTH PRIME, TWO MONTHS AGO PETER PARKERS HOUSE, UPSTAIRS 10:45 PM**

* * *

Peter leaned over the sink. He gripped the edges, breathing heavily.

Crack!

Peter closed his eyes, falling backward into the wall. The edges of the sink had cracked from his gripped. He breathed deeply.

"It's a dream!" He told himself.

"Peter!" he heard his Aunt May yell. "Is everything alright?"

"I… I'm fine Aunt May!" he called out. He did not hear any reply. He closed his eyes tight again, feeling sick. He rolled his shoulder, feeling an itching sensation in his back. He reached with his sweaty hand. He felt a bump and the first thing his mind went to was "Tick!" There was something coming out of the bump and he shivered, grabbing the cold string-like line in his hand. He pulled.

Pain splashed through his back.

He arched his back, a blinding white light flashing through his vision. He dropped the line and pulled his hands back to his bare, now completely ripped, chest. He closed his eyes as the pain subsided. Reaching back there, he grabbed it again and tugged. He felt a snap in his back and slowly he pulled it around to see, ignoring the numbing pain in his back.

It was a string from a spider's web.

"It's a dream." He berated to himself, throwing the piece of silky steel on the ground. "I didn't break the sink."

He glanced over. Yes he did. He wasn't that strong. He glanced down at his shaky, sweaty hands. He was now. He closed his eyes, taking his left hand and running it through his brown hair.

"Peter?" His Aunt's voice was right outside of his door. He scrambled up, grabbing the towel rack and ripping it off the wall. Both he and the rack landed on the ground with a clatter.

"Don't come in Aunt May!" He yelled.

"Peter?" She called again.

"I'm… I'm not decent!" he yelled out desperately, tripping over his backpack to grab at his t-shirt.

Outside his door, he heard a mumbled, "oh my."

He grinned meekly. He used the shirt to wipe the sweat away and then he quickly, despite the momentary disgust, put it on. He glanced at his dirty mirror. It was an old Pepsi-cola shirt that was slightly faded. Right on the P of Pepsi was an old grass stain that Aunt May had not been able to get out and had simply told him to never wear the shirt. He hadn't since but it somehow always ended up on the floor of his room, despite the fact that he always hung it up.

He jumped up. He put too much power in the jump and jammed his head against the low ceiling. He landed on the ground in an instinctive crouching position. He frowned and shook his head, standing up quickly to open the door. His Aunt May was standing there, looking worried.

"Peter, your Uncle and I heard something up here? Are you alright?"

He grinned at her meekly, spreading his arms out wide. "Oh yeah, I'm fine! Just, um, you know, tripped. Over my backpack. And, um, yeah."

What was happening to him?

His Aunt didn't look convinced. "Oh… Oh! Peter! I told you not to wear that shirt! That nasty grass stain!" She walked into his room, glancing around. As she stared in the opposite direction, he jumped to the bathroom door and closed it shut. She turned around.

"Take that shirt off and give it to me, I thought I told you to throw it away."

Now that Peter thought about it, he vaguely remembered her telling him to do that. He shrugged. "Um, alright. Yeah, I think I remember that. Listen Aunt May, I'm not feeling to well. Can you, um, leave so I can go to sleep?"

Aunt May nodded, smiling. She walked out the door, giving him a kiss on the forehead as she used to when he was eight as she passed. He closed the door behind her, walked to the bed and fell on the ground.

Whatever this was, he was frightened.

But he had an idea.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME, NEW YORK CITY PRESBYTARIAN HOSPITAL MAY, 2014 **

* * *

Dick woke up to a white room. For a split second, he thought he was in heaven.

Then reality came crashing down on him.

"You're up!" Someone said next to him.

Realizing he must have been pumped with sedatives, he slowly turned his head to see a nurse next to him. She was short; an African American with hair pulled up in a bun. Her nurse's outfit was white like the ceiling and everything around him. He watched as she began to mess with the machines that he was hooked up to. He turned around to look out the window. All he saw was a large glass building and light. Lots of light. Distantly, he heard the sound of car horns and yells.

"You gave us quite the scare!" The nurse exclaimed abruptly, grinning. "Someone brought you in, said they found you in an alley all bloody. Said there was blood everywhere. We almost lost you twice." She shoved a machine to the side. "Gave us a big scare there. The doctor would like to ask you a few questions of what happened though, and the cops." She smiled at him sweetly and patted him on the head. "You'll be ok. Ain't nothing gonna bother you now."

He nodded out of obligation.

"Well," she began, looking at a Disney-sticker covered clipboard. "You had a broken leg, three cracked ribs and some internal bleeding. You were burned and a few places where your skin is tender because, um, some of the flesh burned off. I… are you alright?"

Dick glanced at her, his skin clammy. "Please stop."

She nodded and began to work again, but the uncomfortable feeling in the room never left.

She left and for a few minutes, he was alone.

After figuring that whoever had been across the street had found him, he laid back down on the pillow and sighed. He hated his life.

Just then, he heard a click and, glancing over, he saw a man with a white coat and a police officer walk in. The doctor smiled and the officer inspected him with emotionless eyes.

"Hello, my name is Doctor John Brandt. This is Officer Jannis (Ya-niss) Lauf; we just need to ask you some question, is that all right?"

Dick nodded.

Officer Jannis Lauf (sounded German) stepped forward with a clipboard as he soaked in Dick's condition he began to look concerned.

"Alright, what's your name?"

"John Richards," Dick said, using his alias.

"Age?"

"15." Dick winced inside.

"Where do you live?"

"On 1 and 5th street, Tree House Apartments."

"Where were you two nights ago at 11:00 PM?"

Dick blinked, glancing at the doctor. "Two nights? Is that how long I've been out?"

The Doctor nodded, looking at Dick with pity. "Yes, you've been unconscious for two days. I'm sorry, John."

Hearing the name John made Dick immediately think of his father, John Grayson. He winced inwardly, glancing outside the window.

"I was walking from a friends house."

"In the Bronx?"

Dick shrugged. "Yeah, my parents are cool with stuff like that." Dick had a feeling they would not have been, had they lived in New York instead of traveling through the circus. The officer and the doctor glanced at one another. Dick narrowed his eyes, he had the feeling that they were having an unspoken conversation. He looked away.

"Who attacked you?" Officer Lauf asked.

Dick shrugged. "I don't know. I was walking back with Reggie, that is my friend by the way, Reginald "Reggie" Gladys. He likes Reggie better than Reginald though so if you talk to him call him Reggie. Anyway, we were walking back together because he was going to stay over with his Aunt who lives in the same Apartment building. We were just turning that one corner talking about girls and comics, if you know what I mean." He winked at the doctor, who looked amused. "We were walking and then, all of a sudden, we were attacked. I heard Reggie screaming and then I heard running, though I was getting too beat up to do anything; I couldn't even fight back. Reggie is the one with the black belt but I think he went to get help. Man, I could smell the alcohol on their breaths, they reeked."

He glanced out the window, beginning to speak shakily.

"I um, I was scared. They would not stop beating me up. I know one of them went after Reggie, but he um, he runs fast. Anyway, they just kept coming. Took my wallet I think and um…" He breathed deeply. "It got really bad. I think I blacked out for most of it, so I can't tell you what they looked like. There was, though, about three of them at first and then a large, big fourth one came and finished me off when um… when the others got tired. I saw red for a while and then I was thrown in the alley. I saw some people through the rainy haze, cause man it was pouring out there. I called for help. That's all I remember cause then I woke up here to your nurse."

"Shan'tay," the Doctor said.

"What are your parents' names?" Officer Lauf asked.

"Bruce and Selina Richards," Dick shot out, thinking of Batman and Catwoman's random flings. She was sometimes there and the random flings sort of made him think about her as a sort-of-ish mother. Then there was Wonder Woman and Dick had just sorta given up on the whole thing after that.

"What does Reggie look like?"

Dick grinned, and giggled. He hated sedatives. "Ginger, green eyes, freckly. Tall, muscular. He wears a black leather jacket and dark washed skinny jeans, most of the time."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

"Can we ask you about your home life?" Officer Lauf asked suddenly, as if he had only just thought of the question. Dick frowned. "Sure."

The doctor sat down, frowning as he pulled a chair up to Dick on his left. "John, where did you get all of those scars?"

Dick blinked, though knowing full well where all his scars came from. "What scars?"

"John, the scars that… that mar your body. There are random J's that have been sloppily _carved_ into your body, your chest. And, speaking of your chest, you have… an amazing muscle mass." Doctor Brandt glanced down at a regular clipboard, looking amazed at some graphs. Dick lifted his head to try and get a good look.

Dick felt proud. "Thank you."

The doctor nodded respectively. "Anyway, the scars. You look like you've been beaten and stabbed, you've got things carved into your back and chest and legs and arms. You look like you've been nicked by knives, swords… bullets. You've certainly been shot before."

Dick squirmed uncomfortably. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"John, are your parents abusive?"

Dick glared at the officer. "No."

"Are you-"

"This is New York. I go to the Bronx a lot. My parents aren't abusive, never have been and they never will be. I've been in a few fights." He knew that his defense was weak.

"John-"

Dick huffed in exasperation. "I'm smart enough I know that I should tell people about things like that. My parents aren't like that."

"John, I'm sorry to say this but I think you're lying. Parents do this when they don't love their kids. They do this because they take out all their anger from their messed up lives on thier kids. I know you may not want to face the truth but-"

"Bruce loves me!" Dick screamed, tears now streaming down his face.

"You call your father by his first name?" Officer Lauf asked seriously, leaning forward in the chair.

"Leave me alone," Dick sobbed. "Please."

He heard the door close not soon after.

* * *

**THE DOCTOR**

* * *

Doctor Brandt stood outside of John's door, frowning.

After ten minutes of waiting for Officer Lauf to get there, he began to pace. The scars, when he had first found them, scared him. He was frightened. The boy hadn't been abused, he had been _tortured. _He had been brutally taken to with a knife. He had seen places where the bones had not healed properly. He had been so scared. The boy had obviously recently recovered from anorexia or some sort of eating disorder. He had gained a lot of weight, but now it was mostly tough muscle. The kid had more muscle than most fully-grown men. The saddest part, however, had not been the scars, the J's, or all the wounds.

It was the three straight lines on his wrist.

One of the nurses burst into tears when she saw them and gave the practically comatose boy a hug. They called CPS a little ago and they had yet to come to get the boy, the Hospital had not intended on returning him home.

"Doctor Brandt!"

John Brandt glanced over to where Officer Lauf was coming from. The officer was looking quite panicked.

"Brandt, the story! The entire thing it was… it was all a lie. John Richards age 15 doesn't exist, neither does Reggie Gladys or the apartments or anything. It was one big whole fabricated lie."

"What?" Brandt whispered, horrorstruck.

"One. Big. Lie," Lauf growled out.

"Call SHIELD. Tell them-"

Lauf nodded, cutting Brandt off. He pulled out a communicator. "I know. We found him."

Brandt glanced into the room, unable to see anything but a foggy haze because of the frosted glass. He frowned. I'm going to give him some more sedatives. If he gets away-"

"I know," Lauf said. "Fury gonna flip."

Brandt nodded and walked into the room.

The bed was empty.

The window was open.

There was a note on the bed. Brandt, horrorstruck, picked it up. It read, "Dear Doctor Brandt. I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Welcome to the new age, I'm a lie. -Robin."

He crushed the paper in his hand, closing his eyes.

* * *

**OPERA HOUSE, MAY 2014 EARTH PRIME**

* * *

He had a slight limp now, but you could only see it if you watch his legs to the point where your eyes watered.

He tested out a few moves that he had taught himself and found that his limp didn't affect him in any way. Finding this odd, he tried a few more. He tripped a bit on his roundhouse, because the limp was in his left leg but figured he could learn to work on it. He checked all his wounds, icing his burns by taping packs of ice to his body. He frowned.

He turned on a radio he had bought a few weeks ago and fell on the ground in a push-up position.

_Do not ask the price I pay/ I must live with my quiet rage/ Tame the ghosts in my head, that run wild and wish me dead/ Should you shake my ash to the wind/ Lord forget all of my sins/ Let me die where I lie/ Beneath the curse of my lover's eyes_

20, 21, 22, 23, 24... he pushed harder. A few minute later he was at 100. "Fifteen years old," he mumbled. "I can do better."

Several minutes later.

He fell to the ground, drenched in sweat.

300 push ups.

He turned on his back, grinning. He wiped his brow of sweat.

"Beat that Wally," he shouted, following the statement with a loud whoop! After a few more minutes he stood up and grabbed a towel. He wiped off the sweat with the towel and walked into the bathrooms that he had renovated enough through parts in a junkyard so he could get hot and cold water and working plumbing. He stripped off his clothes and stepped in the shower. He figured, finding it was odd that there were showers in an opera/theater house that the showers were there for the performers.

Once finished, he stepped out and changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a blue sweater, feeling self-conscious about his scars. He walked upstairs to his balcony. He grinned and laid down in his makeshift bed, his hands slipping behind his head. He could feel it in his bones; it was a new age… a revolution of the mind. He was going to make it the best of what he could. He smirked, tapping to the beat of the song on the radio.

He slowly faded off into sleep, careful not to lie on his cracked ribs.

_He's back at the manor. _

_He is ten years old again._

_Alfred is standing across from him, asking if he wants cookies. He nods and takes one. _

_Bruce is standing there, grinning and asking if he is okay, his hand outstretched. . Dick grins. _

_He jumps on Bruce's back and Bruce falls to his knees, pretending that Dick got him. They wrestle and end up on the ground laughing. _

_Bruce is happier, laughing. _

_He feels like he is at home. _

_"Bruce!" he yells out, walking around the garden. "Ready or not here I come!" He begins to wander through the large garden that had once been Martha Wayne's. Roses, Tulips, Iris', Daisy's, Wisteria bushes, hedges, grapes, apple trees; the garden was filled with so many different types of plants. "Bruce!" he yells, wandering deeper into the garden. It gets denser and thicker and overhead the branches of purple and white wisteria begin to entangle with each other, choking their branches. The sunlight became dimmer. _

_He walks on, marveling at the streams of light that float down onto the sandstone pathway. He watches as orange and black butterflies flit around him. He keeps walking, forgetting about the game of hide and seek. _

_He walked into a large, roofless building. Well, it had no roof or it used to. Wisteria and Rose bushes had completely overtaken it, climbing up the columns and entangling each other. Light streamed through and Dick walked into the middle of the small building. He grinned, sitting down on the ground, staring at the light. _

_He forgot all about Bruce in that moment, thinking of his mother, Mary Grayson. _

_"Richard, my little robin, my little bird. You are a dreamer, correct?" _

_He would nod. _

_She would give him a hug. "What are dreams, my little bird?" _

_He smiled at her. He was always told they had the same smile. "A dream is my mind at its best, where no one can imagine but me." She picked him up, hugging him tight. _

_"And you, my little robin, are a dreamer, where no one but you can imagine." _

_He fell into her hug. _

He woke up crying on the floor of the balcony.

* * *

**AVENGERS TOWER, TONY AND PEPPER**

* * *

"I want to dance," Tony said, setting down his glass of wine.

Pepper sighed. "Tony…"

"Come on, let's dance. Something peppy. I don't know, I'm in a good mood. Come on, I can pull some of my parents records. I mean, it was rare but my parents danced. My mom had some great songs-"

Pepper set down her glass. "Tony."

He stopped, turning to look at her. "What?"

"Have you-"

"You know I'm not confronting him. He's… he's fifteen now."

"All the more reason," Pepper pointed out, her voice pleading. "He know's, right?"

Tony nodded, sighing. He ran a hand through his dark brown almost black hair. "Oh, he knows. I told you, remember?" She nodded.

"Right. He knows, boy… it's up to him now, Miss Potts."

"Right… right of course," Pepper pushed out. "But… one last time." Tony grabbed her hand, but nodded.

"Let's dance."

_**To be continued… **_

* * *

**Next chapter we meet Peter Parker again. what is he planning? And, will he finally meet Robin? **


	18. Compromise

**Chapter 18?: **

* * *

**JUNE**

* * *

Robin sprinted across the buildings, his head aching and his body screaming for him to stop. This new villain was a mess.

This guy, calling himself Man-Brute, had attacked Captain America (who Robin was now momentarily partnered up with) who had been invited to a Charity Event at an orphanage. When he saw smoke rising from the building, Robin went over there, only to join a fight between Man-Brute and Captain A, who seemed to be having a difficult time. He joined, though Captain A wasn't too pleased with a kid joining the fight. Robin argued that he could help and that was when he pushed Cap out of the way of a huge fist.

"Just be careful," Cap had warned. Robin shrugged, noticing that Cap hadn't noticed that he was the one they were originally after when he ran away from SHIELD.

They fought with Man-Brute for ten minutes until a kid threw a plate at the Brute's head, causing Man-Brute to turn around and stare at the kid in horror. Robin, leaping from the shadows and scaring both Cap and Brute, grabbed the kid and ran to the other side of the room, setting him there and urging him to go. The kid glanced one last time at Brute who was staring horrorstruck at the boy. Cap smashed him in the head with the shield and Brute was flung into a wall from the force. He landed on the other side, standing up and quickly running from the orphanage.

"After him!" Cap yelled, jumping out of the building. Robin was about to follow when the boy from earlier tugged on his cape, which was not quite short.

"Be careful," the boy warned him, staring up at Robin with wide brown eyes. Robin nodded seriously, turning to leave through the wall. He saw Cap running down the street after Brute and quickly followed. It took him a while to catch up.

"Cap-"

"I just realized you're the kid."

Robin glanced over at him, breathing heavily. "The kid?"

"The one that Iron Man's after," Cap explained, dodging a fire hydrant. The good thing about it being late was that there were almost no people on the street but the bad thing was that there were still inanimate objects that lived to make a heroes' job difficult.

Robin smirked, though he inhaled sharply. "Yes."

"He's worried about you."

"He shouldn't be," Robin pointed out, flipping off a car and rebounding off a building. He landed on the ground and fell back in line with Cap. He grunted. "Let's get ape over here and then- ugh- we can discuss this. I go left and you go right. I'll get him from the top!"

Cap glanced over but the kid was already gone and when he looked at a buildings rooftop, he swore he saw a small shadow. Cap narrowed his eyes and pushed faster. That kid… was an enigma of problems. He was determined though.

It wasn't long after that Cap lost Brute.

It wasn't long after till Robin noticed that Cap was gone. Either Brute had lost him or he had gotten lost. Robin was following mostly by air and grappling, which was a much faster way to travel than by foot. He could still see Brute, who was yelling at himself and causing people to look out their windows in confusion or irritation.

"Go back to bed! Stay inside!" he yelled as he passed and right after he heard faint yells of, "Robin!"

The newspapers had begun to call him that now, Robin. He figured it was the doctor and cop he had ditched, well… the SHIELD agents he had ditched had ratted him out. They probably told the papers he was called Robin. They didn't release his age or anything like that, they either knew it was all fake (except for the age, he really was fifteen)… or wanted Robin for themselves and he wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter. He jumped down from the building, scowering the shadows for the bulk of a man called Man-Brute (like seriously, what is up with that name? Not very whelming). The man was passing outside a bar with a sign that said "Wrestling Here!" Robin dashed toward it. He knew he couldn't stop the Brute, but he could at least call the cops or something so that he could have some help.

Time like these really made him regret pushing Tony away.

And now Cap was MIA.

Disastrous, heavy on the dis.

He sighed.

"Robin!"

He turned around. A boy was on the ground, cradling a man. The man had blood on his chest. That boy… he knew him. Peter Parker.

"Please! You have to… you have to help! My uncle he's been.. he's been shot!"

Robin stared at the boy, wide eyed and breathing heavily. He turned to look where he'd seen the Brute. Gone. He turned back to Peter and his uncle. The Brute or Peter. He turned back to where he had last seen the Brute and then he turned back to look at Peter. He inhaled and exhaled heavily. Emotions flipped through his body. Images of his parents and Bruce popped up, he felts dread wash through the tips of hands and feet. Their graves flashed through his mind.

"Please!" Peter begged, cradling the obviously dying man.

"I…" Robin began. "I'm sorry." Then he turned and sprinted to where the Brute had disappeared.

"Come back! Please!" Peter screamed, practically wrenching Robin's heart out of his body. He ran away. What was he doing? His parents.

He kept after Man-Brute, not having the heart to go back.

* * *

Peter went after the man that shot his uncle, his anger from Robin and Uncle Ben's death fueling him. The man fell down off a building. Peter tried to grab him but it didn't work, he didn't move fast enough. He watched him fall and then slowly disappeared into the shadows of the building that were cast by the moonlight.

He went back home, scratched and beat up and tired and with tear tracks on his face. He hugged his backpack, filled with his costume and his school books. He wiped the tears away, because he wasn't supposed to know yet. He walked up the sidewalk to his house.

Why didn't Robin, the said hero of New York, help him?

He looked like he really wanted to help. He kept glancing at where he had been running, as if he was conflicted; should he stay or go?

Peter, despite the panic in his mind, had gotten a good look at the hero. He was young. Younger than Peter, probably about 14 or 15 years old. Peter was 17, old enough to realize that this kid must be really broken inside or have a really bad hero complex. Peter glanced down at the backpack, his mind conflicted. Should he be angry at Robin, or should he acknowledge the fact that Robin was probably chasing after something? Peter shook his head, opening the door into the small, starter house that had once belonged to both Aunt May and Uncle Ben, now just Aunt May. How was she going to pay the bills?

He walked into the living room, greeted by a scene he had already figured out. before he had even begun his trek back home. Home, the word felt really empty now.

Aunt May was sitting on the rocking chair, a tissue in hand, hiccupping and crying. A police officer was standing over, a look of pity on his face as he saw Peter, his hand was on Aunt May's shoulder in a comforting way. Another Officer was looking around the house.

Shakily, though already knowing what happened, Peter asked, "What… what happened?"

Aunt hiccupped and stood up. The officer gave her a concerned look but he let her stand up. "Pe… Peter, Uncle Ben. Peter well…" she fell into a another fit of sobs. The officer led her back to the rocking chair. Peter watched with narrowed eyes, flashes of the past hour flickering through his head.

"Officer?" Peter whispered. "Where's Uncle Ben?" He was trying not to cry now.

"Peter Parker? I'm Officer Grant, that's Officer Lauf-" He pointed to the officer in the dining room, who nodded to Peter in acknowledgement. "-We're with the NYPD. Peter, I'm sorry to say that your Uncle Ben is dead. He was shot, I'm very, very sorry."

It was the first time someone had said it out loud. Peter felt numb, tears spilled over his eyes. He blinked a few times. Choking, he inquired, "Did you… did you catch the guy?"

Officer Lauf walked into the room. Peter felt angered with Officer Lauf's bland and bored expression. He looked back at Grant, who was staring at Lauf.

"We did," Lauf responded, pulling out a picture to Peter. "His name is Joe Chill. He's a regular thug. He tired to steal your uncle's car with another guy. The other guy got away but… Chill didn't. We got him. Here's a picture." Lauf flipped around the picture of an older, scruffy frail looking man with haunted brown eyes and crooked teeth. Peter winced, staring at picture in shock.

It was his fault.

It was the guy that he let get away at the wrestling place, the one _he_ refused to stop because _he_ hadn't gotten paid. Peter almost fell on the ground. It was his fault, he berated himself, his.

And Robin's. It was Robin's fault too.

* * *

**Opera House, June 2014 Two Days later**

* * *

Dick was going to kill himself.

Well, no, he was going to jump into the gates of hell and then climb out and do it again. Screw Cas. For one, he hadn't even caught Man-Brute. Second, he left Peter Parker on the ground in the dark, on a street in New York with his dying and dead uncle. He became a hero so people wouldn't suffer the same fate as he did and there he goes, all for the mission; he was becoming like Batman, and Batman wasn't even here. He punched the wall, grinned at the whole, spun on his heels and began to pace. He became a hero so that he could stop people from feeling the same as he did when he watched his parents fall to their deaths.

He watched their bodies crack against the ground. Pools of blood filling up the ground and mixing with the dirt.

He shook his head. He really needed to get back in the game. He'd made a name for himself (literally and figuratively) and he protected New York City (nothing compared to Gotham, it was quite pitiful yet very asterous). He should have been there for Peter and now he wouldn't be surprised if the kid had sworn revenge against him. Dick frowned. That would be bad, not that Dick couldn't handle the seventeen year old, but he had noticed that something was a little different about him.

Dick had been watching him at school, not in the stalkerish way of course, just deducting like he always did. He had one day come to school was muscle, not bulk like that one junior Flash Thompson. He came to school with muscle like Robin's, just enough that you would be wary. He also wasn't wearing his glasses and when asked by his ginger friend he shrugged and said, "Contacts." Dick didn't find that believable. Contacts were expensive and no offense to Peter and his family, but they did not seem to be ones to afford them. He was also wearing regular teenager clothing; he wore a pair of scruffy looking jeans that looked as if they hadn't been worn in ages, an old t-shirt and a long-sleeved shirt underneath and a pair of faded Chucks.

He had either had a wake-up call or he was hiding something and Dick was inclined to believe it was the latter.

So, here he was berating his life and trying to figure out what good ole' Peter Parker was hiding.

He ran into the wall.

"Crap!" he yelled as he fell backward into a backwards roll which turned into a backward hand spring. He landed on his feet, shaking his head yet grinning.

He jumped up onto his balcony, changing into his Robin costume.

* * *

**Two weeks later (I think…)**

* * *

Robin watched the vigilante beat up the car thief.

The voice, he knew that voice.

The vigilante shot something from his wrist at the car thief, causing the thief to stick on the wall. Robin narrowed his eyes. He knew who it was. He landed behind the vigilante. The car thief's eyes widened when he saw Robin.

"Yeah, you better be scared!" Peter said.

"I don't think he's scared of you," Robin interjected. Peter spun around, going defensive when he saw Robin. He was dressed in skin tight red and blue suit with a spider on his chest. Robin tilted his head. "We need to talk."

"Hell yeah we do!" Peter bit at him, lunging at him angrily. Robin knew that the 17 year old would be pissed, he had hoped not but it had been wishful thinking. Robin dodged, stepping to the side and lifting his leg to hit Peter in the back with his foot. Peter landed on the ground with a thump. Rolling onto his side, Peter shot the substance Robin, who allowed it to graze him so he could examine it later. He jumped to the side and stood up straight, hands up in defense and surrender.

"Not fight, talk. I've already called the police for this guy. We need to talk."

"What," Peter growled, "You don't like another hero in town?"

Robin shrugged. "Honestly I could careless but I am a little chuffed that you didn't come talk to me, I like making new friends."

Peter chuckled but then quickly tried to cover it up with a cough. "Fine, we can talk. Where?"

Robin glanced at the thief, who was still staring at them wide eyed. "Follow me I guess. Wouldn't want this guy somehow escaping and taking a few of his buddies to find us."

Peter paused. "I didn't think about that."

Robin smirked, taking out his grappling. "No you didn't, that's one of the reason we need to talk."

Peter nodded.

Robin shot off into the dark and he saw that Peter was shooting something out of his wrists that allowed him to keep up with Robin on his grappling. Robin had had to create two of them, one for each hand. Normally in Gotham, he and Batsy would have to shoot, land and then shoot again. It was tedious and Robin had once complained but Bats said it allowed him to check to see if there were any crimes going on. He shot his way across New York to an old church building with a large bell. It was dark, quiet and no one would be up there; it was perfect for meeting and if Robin's plan was going to work, this was where he would end up staying… maybe. Sort of. Probably not.

He landed on the bell, shaking it just enough for it to shudder but not enough for it to clang. Peter landed on a column, sticking to it and climbing down. Robin watched. He knew it. Peter had been hiding something. This is whelming.

"Well," Robin began, "Peter."

Peter blinked. "My name's Spiderman."

Robin waved him off. "Yeah as of right now. Normally, though, you're Peter Parker. Seventeen, nephew of Benjamin and May Parker, son of the late Richard and Mary Parker. You go to Midtown High School, you're best friends are Mary Jane Watson and Harry Osborn."

"How…. how do you know that?" Peter asked, stumbling backward.

Robin shrugged. "I'm good, I've been trained by the best. I know how to do things. You… need help with the hero bit. And…" He sighed. Peter stared at him.

Robin looked up at him through the white mask, tears brimming in his eyes. He was crying for Peter and what he did and for his parents. "I'm sorry. I realized it's my fault that your uncle died. If you want to punch me or kill me or whatever I don't blame you. I became a hero so that no one would have to go through the same pain that I did and… I failed that." He chuckled. "I just wanted… I want to help and I want to say I'm sorry."

Peter walked over, putting a hand on Robin's shoulder. Robin winced away.

"Tell me what happened."

Robin sat down, Peter following him. "I lost my parents. Watched it happen. Got trained by like the best hero in the world. He changed my thirst for revenge toward my parents killer to a thirst for justice. To stop other families from suffering the same as I did. And then… the other day. I saw you and… I was chasing this guy. I was… so focused on the mission. I became like my mentor, all mission. If it hurts the mission than don't go near it."

"That sounds… harsh," Peter commented, staring at Robin. He had taken the mask off when Robin started. His anger toward Robin seemed to have completely diminished. The mood from earlier had become more somber, more friendly.

Robin chuckled humorlessly. "You should meet him."

"Can I?"

Robin hesitated. "I left him. We haven't spoken in two years." Yeah, left. That was a spin on it and a big fat lie.

Peter looked at him with sad eyes. He was still mad about the death of Uncle Ben but he couldn't seem to be mad at Robin. He removed his hand from Robin's shoulder, staring him in the domino mask. He couldn't feel better knowing that this kid was almost as messed up as he was at the moment and had been messed up for even longer. He was fifteen. Peter vaguely wondered who Robin was behind the mask and the cape and the red and black outfit. Who was this enigma of a boy?

"Who are you?"

Robin looked up, his sad demeanor leaving him as he grinned. "You'll find that out in a while. I do, however, want to train you."

"Train me?"

"Teach you a few moves. I've watched you. I've been doing this for 6 years. I know my stuff and whatever happened to you makes you really athletic. You might end up being better than me and I grew up in a family of acrobats. If there's one thing a mentor loves to see his protégé do, it's surpass the mentor."

Peter smirked. This kid was smart. "You'd like me surpassing you?"

Robin beamed. "I'd be honored!"

Peter grinned.

Robin turned away, pulling out his grappling. He shifted his shoulders so his cape fell over his shoulders. He turned again to look at Peter, his eyes, hidden by the mask, looked so cheerful. Maybe, he thought, maybe he had just made his first friend. Turning away again, he spoke, "We'll train at the warehouses by the Marina. I'll pick you up at school. Bring the costume. I'll slip you the location of where to wait in school-"

"You go to Midtown?"

Robin smirked at Peter over his shoulder. "I never said I did."

Peter blinked, grinned and slipped on his mask. "When will I get to know your name?"

Robin climbed up on to the ledge parallel the bell. He looked down at Peter, a playful smirk playing on his lips. He looked so childish.

"When I can trust you."

Peter wasn't sure how to react to that.

* * *

**NEW YORK AIRSPACE, FIVE DAYS LATER (This scene was written with the Pink Panther Theme song in mind ;) )**

* * *

Tony flew over New York, Jarvis allowing to focus at rooftops and streets. He gritted his teeth before turning around and heading to the apartments that Robin was in.

He had read the paper (actually, Jarvis gave him the most important titles and anything he found interesting he looked into) and saw that he was called Robin because the teen vigilante had been held at the Hospital but sustaining injuries from a fight. Tony, who had figured out that they must've been SHIELD agents because of the lack of age and name and other information that he could have spilled while in a drug-induced state and would want him for themselves. Tony snorted, they were selfish idiots who couldn't handle their being another authority. Most of the people they dealt with were adults that they could succumb into their ranks, often because of blackmail or very, very convincing arguments.

They weren't used to the rebellious teenager that stole a plane from them (especially after fighting Fury and escaping the interrogation room. He hacked the security cameras a few months ago and saw it happened). SHIELD wasn't used to someone toying with them. Well, they were used to Tony but Tony worked with them. This kid was as stubborn as a mule and he's even gotten the public on his side. They liked him… sort of. It was a mutual love hate relationship that often tended to fall on the "hate" side of things. They weren't used to being outsmarted by a kid, who definitely had some sort of training that allowed him to be a badass.

He landed on the roof of the apartment. Glancing around, he took off the suit, which shifted into suitcase form. When Captain America told him that he had had a momentary partnership with Robin, Tony had flipped out, grabbing Steve by the arms and yelling where he was. Steve said he didn't know but the kid told him to day that Tony shouldn't have to worry. Tony had admitted to only Natasha and Steve that he had found him, that he had been looking for him and that he wanted him. Natasha, already figuring out most of it completely approved of it because that's what they had wanted in the first place. Steve was wary but then said that it was now Tony's job and that he just wanted to this kid out of the battlefield. Tony had, understandably, thought that this kid had been in the battlefield before.

He stood outside Robin's door, hand inches away from the wood, ready to knock. He glanced down and frowned, the door was open. He pushed it open slightly.

Everyone in that room froze.

The boys with crazy piercing, tattoos and cigarette's in their hands all stared at Tony as if he were a cop and he might as well be. Tony stared them. He could tell immediately that those weren't regular cigarettes just by the smell in the room. He narrowed his eyes at them. One boy, a tall black one shifted his hand down toward his belt. A gun, probably, Tony deduced. He didn't like guns, at least not very much and especially if they were going to be used on him.

"You know who I am, correct?"

All three nodded.

"Good, then you'll know that I'll kick your asses into next week if you don't get out of here."

The boys nodded, rushing past him while giving him dirty, pointed looks. He looked around.

Robin's computer desk had been pushed to the side, and dirt and dried yellow nicotine clung to the sides. It was spraypainted with yellow figures that Tony could only recognize as some form of a Chinese or Mandarin language. On the wall that it was pushed against, big black letters said "WE SURVIVED THE MISHAPOCALYPSE" with a famous actors face taped next to it. Tony shook his head, snorting quietly. The tracker was still there, in bright yellow. Tony picked it up, scraping the yellow paint off with his fingernail he saw that under it, his tracker was still blinking red. He closed his eyes, throwing it to the ground.

"Damn," he muttered, pulling himself away from the table he walked back out the door and on to the roof. Putting the Iron Man suit back on, he launched himself off the roof. He flew back toward Avengers Tower very slowly, hoping to find something, anything, that would lead him to Robin.

"_Sir, there is a flashing signal to your left. It is Morse Code." _

"What's it saying, Jarvis?"

_"Come find me sucka." _

Tony let out a burst of laughter as he turned to the let, veering toward where he could now see a flash of light. Robin was keeping tabs on him, he figured, finding it funny that Jarvis had just said the word "sucka". He landed on a church building in Midtown, under the bell. There was no one there.

He removed the mask, looking around. "Robin?"

"Here."

He turned around to see the boy standing there, arm folded over his chest, his weight against his left foot. He was smirking, as if he knew what Tony had been doing. Of course, he had… because he had gotten him over here.

"How in the world did you know where I was?"

"I'm a bat," the boy replied simply, shrugging his shoulder and letting his arms fall.

"But you're name is Robin."

Robin waved him off, his hand dismissive. "Yeah, but that's not what I mean. And, I'm good. And you glint like diamond in the ruff, being all red and gold in that suit; a suit that, actually isn't made of iron but you knew that. Anyway, not that hard to spot you and I have my ways of knowing where you'll be. I know people."

Tony gave him a look. "As far as I know, most of these other "heroes" don't know you."

"Who said they were heroes-"

"Thugs? Villains?"

"You didn't let me finish. Who said they were heroes that you knew?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "You've recruited?"

"More like acquired."

"Okay, why'd you call me here?"

Robin cackled, sending shivers down Tony's spine, throwing his head back, his shoulders fluctuating. "Like my message? Come find me sucka; not that it involved much finding."

"I rather liked it, personally. Though, I don't like being called names."

Robin shrugged again. "Sorry then, I guess. So, I saw you looking at my old place. Like my present?"

"You left. You expected me to go back for you?"

"Yeah, I did. Like you said, I expected you'd come back for me though so I wouldn't say I'm surprised to see you. So, why I want you here…"

"Yes, that little thing."

Robin laughed, making Tony smile. "More like the elephant in the room! Very whelming. So, yes. Why you are here. Well… to take you up on your offer."

"Really?" Tony must've looked surprised because Robin smirked and pointed at him.

"On yeah, well… sort of. I'll come to you… if I need you."

"You said that last time, if I recall."

"I lied," Robin inquired, grinning. "1st rule: Robin lies."

Tony smirked. "Noted. 2nd rule: So does Tony."

Robin nodded understandably, stepping forward so he was closer to Tony. "Right. I'll come if I need you but you don't go looking for me. And… if Pepper pressures you into doing it, lie."

Tony's glare suddenly hardened. "I'm not lying to Pepper."

"You just said you lie, so do it. This is more of compromise."

"Give me sort of communication device where we can talk. You have one? If not, I could possibly give you some of the genius that is Stark Technology."

Robin smirked as if he had a secret, pulling out a small device out of his utility belt. "I have something better than Stark Technology."

"Please tell me you don't have Hammer Tech because if you do-"

"It's a combo of tech from my world and your tech," Robin explained, handing him the small lightweight device. Tony stared at it.

"A combo?"

"Of the best tech in my word and yours. This thing is years ahead of this worlds and mine. Years."

Tony looked at him studying Robin's face. The stress lines were gone, replaced with smile lines along the edges of his domino mask. He held his chest up high and he was taller, taller than when Tony had last seen him. His entire demeanor was that of somehow who was proud, not arrogant-proud, like Tony, but proud in a sense of good family values, someone who had grown up hearing to be the best.

"Great."

"Yeah, it's pretty concerted. My number's already in the phone, so don't worry about trying to figure out how to contact me."

"I don't think I'd have much of a problem. And can I ask about the word pre-"

"No. And years, Mr. Stark, years."

Tony smiled dryly at him, clutching the phone lightly in his metallic hand. He took a step back and then nodded his head, the mask slipping over to cover his face. It was getting dark out, the soft hue of the lights that were being turned on cast uneven shadows into the room. It wasn't much of a room, just four walls with large glassless arches where you could see a large bronze bell. He glanced down at Robin, who was staring off into the distance.

"So, you'll come if you need it but I can't interfere. That seems very one-sided to me."

Robin frowned, hesitating before he spoke. "Yes, well… I suppose it is. I just-"

"Don't want adults?"

"Hormones cause very conflicting feelings. Trust me… I know I need someone just…"

Tony could only stare.

"…Just… I don't want anyone. I need them but I don't want them and then there's you, wanting me. And… I really wanna take that deal but… I don't."

Tony nodded.

"But I do. Like I said, conflicting. How about this, I'll go to you and Pepper if I need help. If you ever need me or am worried… call or text me."

Tony nodded, glancing away before turning back and opening his mouth.

The kid was gone.

"Jarvis, where'd he go?"

_"He is somehow escaping my radar, sir, I cannot find him." _

Tony let out a string of curses. He glanced down at the phone in his hand, staring at it's dead screen. He clicked the on button. The screen lit up blue, showing the R that was on Robin's suit. It led to screen with different apps on it, each labeled. He clicked the one that said programming. He read through it.

Amazing.

Brilliant.

He went through the rest of it, marveling at each piece of tech. The thing created it's own Wifi, so you always had some. Finding this thing rather genius, Tony cursed. The kid was right, this thing was years ahead of anything he himself had created. He felt a pang of jealous and then thought of how Robin couldn't drink and he could so then he was pleased again.

He turned and shot off into the sky, back home.

_**To be continued…**_


	19. Nightwing

**Chapter 19:**

* * *

**OCTOBER**

* * *

Dick sat back in the chair, slurping up the smoothie from 7-Eleven that he and Peter had stopped by on the way to the Warehouse. It was October but an odd warm front from South America had flooded up into the NYC, scorching the residents of the large city with a hardy 70 degrees. Dick found it rather comfortable, it was better than Connecticut, which was cold and anything from down South that got up there was pretty much like, "60? We are all going to die from heat exhaustion." And it was pretty funny to watch because when he lived with his parents and in Haley's Circus, they went down to Florida and even Mexico one time (Brazil maybe? He couldn't remember) and damn that was hot.

"One more time Peter, come on man that was pathetic," He yelled out as Peter shot a web from his wrist, launching himself accidentally into a steel pole. He landed on the ground with a thump, rubbing his chest and chin.

"Ow, give me a moment."

Dick chuckled. Honestly, he was pretty pleased with how the summer went. He had made a friend, Peter Parker, and now he was in his third year of high school. According to the school, he could bump up a grade. He and his "parents" accepted the offer and so now instead of being in Tenth grade, he was in eleventh. It was interesting and it was tough. Colleges were beginning to approach him and it was hardly October. He'd gotten a sports scholarship (For Cross Country. Wally would be so proud! He was also going to try out for Indoor Track) and an academic scholarship to Harvard for Math and Arithmacy. He had stared at it for ten minutes, holding it in his hands while wondering what Bruce would think. He had long ago set up a Mail box for himself at an apartment that was closed for renovation. Every day the apartment mailman put mail in the box and every day after school Dick would stop by and grab it out. Of course, this wouldn't last but for now it worked fine.

Either way, excited about the offer, he had told Peter and Peter, being a senior now, was excited for him too. He'd gotten a few scholarships, but he told "Robin" that he was thinking about going to NYU or Columbia (both of which had given him a Science Scholarship) so he could stay close to his Aunt May and so that he could continue being Spiderman.

Peter's Aunt May, who Robin hadn't met yet but knew much about, seemed like a very kind person and Dick was seriously contemplating giving his nonexistent identity to Peter. He and Peter were very close now, though it was hard at school because of this whole secretive thing Dick was going through. He also knew that Harry Osborn didn't like him (Dick didn't favor him very much either) and Mary Jane simply felt bad for him because he was the "emo" kid. Though, he did admit writing BITE ME on his forearm was a little odd.

Also, he now had made that compromise with Tony. It wasn't too bad, Tony checked up on him sometimes, asking if he was alright. Dick, feeling irritated with him, would answer with short and curt answers. Though, it was nice that he was able to have someone who checked up on him even when he wasn't as Robin. Peter didn't have the ability to detect if you were hiding something, unless it was of course hazardous and then his Spidey Sense would go all "WTF man look around you fool". Tony asked Dick if he needed anything, maybe shelter or something. Dick would, of course, decline, deciding that he would rather chill at his opera house in his little booth of protection.

Over all, the events of the summer seemed to have considerably lightened his mood now. He felt more comfortable around Peter and even though his training sessions with the older boy were like Black Canary's (Nothing compared to Batman's but Dick felt bad) they would joke and laugh and Peter would tell him about his friends.

And apparently this girl, Gwen Stacy, that he met at the lab where he'd gotten bit from. Peter said she was nice and that they'd met up twice since they'd met at the lab, going out for coffee. "I like her a lot, you know?" Peter asked him one day. Dick had glanced over, smirking and thinking of his Galway girl.

"Oh yeah, I know what you mean."

"Dude, you're fifteen!" Peter coldly reminded Dick of Wally right then. He figured that Peter and Wally would have been friends. Both were science nerds and both were incredibly funny… once you got to know them.

"Well, the love is real. The chemicals that are released throughout the body happen. Whatever we feel and do at this age is… is real. It's just if we can keep it going."

Peter shut up after that, though a while later he admitted that he didn't think about the chemicals released when you're in love, the chemicals Dopamine, Serotonin and Oxytocin were released. Dick chuckled, ran a hand through his hair, and told him to do some Russian Twists.

At the end of each session, Robin and Peter (both in civvies) would walk back to the church where they would head off in their own direction.

"Robin, you're looking a little too relaxed there," Peter commented, landing on the ground in a crouched position.

Robin shrugged, taking a slurp from his smoothie. "Oh you know, one can only work too much. Find a job yet?"

Peter glanced off in the distance, where you could see the faint outline of boat entering the Harbor. "Um, well you know how the pubic really doesn't like me?"

"Their loss but yeah sure."

Peter chuckled. "Well, The Daily Bugle is offering a job for anyone who can get pictures of me. I mean, you and I are pretty much the only ones who can do that so-"

Robin stood up, setting his smoothie down on the ground. He crossed his arms over his chest. "No pictures of me, don't give anything away. Be careful. You can take it, but you have to-"

"Be wary, I know Rob we've been over this. Besides, um, I already took the job."

Robin grinned. "I sort of figured. What the heck man, I don't care. Just be careful."

Peter grinned and then slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking behind a large stack of shipment that had been there long since the building had been abandoned to change into his civilian clothing. Even though Robin and Spiderman were a team, people didn't seem to like the latter. Robin figured it had to something to do with the fact that it must be from what this Universe would have been like had he, Richard Grayson, not been there. Maybe Spiderman still would have existed and they would have disliked him.

Dick had figured that he had certainly upset the timeline here. Obviously, Peter's uncle was supposed to die because Robin had left him there and had he not been there… the same result would have happened. Certain things, it seemed, were fixed points in time. Something's were inevitable. Tony Stark's odd fatherly attraction to him was not a fixed point in time and therefore Robin had tried to ignore it as much as possible but it didn't seem to work. Maybe it was a fixed point, maybe it was supposed to happen. Whatever it was, Dick didn't have a clue. He hefted himself over behind another pile of lost merchandise, changing into his civvies and black sunglasses.

He stepped out to see Peter already there, eating an apple and standing looking out of the harbor.

"You know," he began. "You still haven't told me who you are."

Robin shrugged. "No, I haven't."

"Are you planning to?"

Robin smirked, walking down the steel staircase to the wet concrete below. "Maybe, it's a very tough decision."

"I don't see how."

Robin chuckled, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. "Yeah, neither do I."

Peter didn't reply for a few moments. They walked out of the holding docks and warehouse section and onto the streets of Brooklyn. Peter, finding it difficult to keep up a conversation with his mentor-like friend walked slowly and unsurely; he wasn't really sure what to call Robin. Sure, they'd partnered up all the time, saving people. When they went on patrol they went their separate ways and often enough Peter messed up somehow. He was stealthy, but not to the point where Robin was at. The kid was younger than him but he was a Master of Stealth. He could sneak up on Peter well enough that his Spidey Sense didn't really take note of it until it was too late. He called Robin his friend and his "mentor-like-thing". He wasn't really a mentor, more like an instructor who was his friend. It was complicated but Robin joked around with him and messed around with him.

Peter wasn't sure, but he felt that Robin looked at him as more of an older brother instead of a friend. As far as Peter knew, Robin had no family. It was weird thinking that Robin looked at him as such, an older brother, because Peter didn't even know his real name.

"I'll see you later," Robin commented, slipping away what looked like a phone into his pocket. "I've got to be somewhere."

"Are we patrolling tonight?" Peter asked, frowning. His mind shot into a billion different ways, each coming up with a theory of what the device was and where Robin could possibly be going.

"You can, if I make it out I might too. See ya."

Peter looked back over, but Robin was gone. He looked around but was unable to spot him in the growing night. Shaking his head, Peter began to trek home.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME: OUTSIDE OF NEW YORK CITY OLD FARM HOUSE**

* * *

Robin stood on the porch, his arms crossed over his chest as he thought hard thoughts about how he really need to alter his cape because it was getting too short. All in all, his entire costume was a tad out of date. He needed a change of costume and his mind briefly thought back to when he was in school that one time and thinking of different names.

Glancing around, he gritted his teeth. Why the hell was he called here if they were going to be late?

"Robin, you're here."

Angry Pirate Man has arrived. He has boarded the ship, repeat, he has boarded the ship. Robin smirked.

"Your call to my phone was quite interesting, I'm surprised you got into the frequency or the number."

Nick Fury stepped forward in his grey trench coat, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. His shoulders were squared away, tight as he stood there across from Robin. "I admit, it was difficult."

Robin's smirk grew. "Yeah, that's the point of a fire wall and encryption code. But don't worry, you won't be able to get passed it again."

Nick Fury bowed his head respectively with a small smile. "As expected."

"Right," Robin said, jumping up onto the surprisingly sturdy porch railing. "So, why did you call me here?"

"We have some things to discuss, Robin," Fury began, lifting his head up again. Robin nodded, still crouching down on the rail, his hands gripping it tightly. "I'm here to talk to you about Spiderman and Mr. Stark."

Robin's eyebrows shot up but he said nothing. It wasn't the only reason, he felt.

"Your partner, Spiderman, where'd he come from? You seemed to have some problem with him and now… it's been resolved. We've been watching you, you're hard to track I admit, but we found we're you go."

"The church?"

"An odd place."

Robin shrugged. "It's nice there. Now, what about Spiderman? He's my partner, he knows about SHIELD. He also wants nothing to do with you."

"Because of what you told him?"

"No. Well, yes, but I let him do his own research. And, you know, gave him all the files I took from you."

Fury's eyes narrowed. "That was two years ago."

Robin smirked. "So you think. You really need to step up your encryption code. Seriously, almost as bad as the Pentagon."

"You've hacked the Pentagon?"

"Once upon a time, yes."

Fury nodded his head slowly and then turned away to look at the New York City skyline. "Alright then, as for your business with Mr. Stark."

"Yes," Robin stated calmly. "That."

"You're friends now?" Fury asked, taking a lazy step forward. Rob narrowed his eyes as he saw a blinking red light in between Fury's fingers. He grinned at the man, his face wiped clean of anything that would give any of his knowledge.

He shrugged then. "I suppose. I mean, I prefer to call it a "mutual-friend-enemy-pitiful-talking-anger thing". I mean I don't know what he calls it but it's pretty whelming and you're not invited."

"So you admit you talk to him? You have a deal?"

Robin shrugged nodding. "Yes. We talk."

Fury nodded and then turned away. "Then that is all, thank you."

Robin paused. "That's not it. You know that and so do I. You called me because of something else. Screw Spiderman and Stark, you came here because you have something that you know I will want and that I'll like. You came here because you got something and you know that I am going to bite."

Fury stared at him and then shrugged. "You're right."

"Of course I am. What do you have for me?"

Fury smirked and turned toward him. "We know your problem. We know you're not from this world. You're out of place, an outcast. You don't belong here but you don't know how to get out, so now you're stuck. You're stubborn and that's why you won't trust anyone or go with anyone. You woke up here in an unknown position, in a disclosed location. I can only imagine your fright, your fear. It was a mistake on our part-"

"Mistake!" The word ripped from Robin's throat, who was gripping the railing with tight, white knuckles. "Have mercy and say sin! I woke up because you didn't know who I was, what I was wearing and how and why I got here. I woke up wondering whose hands I was in and if I was going to die! I was thirteen! Thirteen! I was scared and frightened and I didn't know what was going on. And then you interrogated me" He looked to be crying now, his voice now up to a scream. His entire body was shaking with anger, his hands twitching and his cheeks red with blood and blush.

Fury was silent. After a moment of quiet sobbing and the beginning of a lightning storm, he began again. "I agree. It was wrong. But we can get you back home again, Robin. We can get you back to your world and into your family's arms."

Robin blinked, looking at Fury. It began to rain slowly. "My family is dead."

You could hear the loss over the rain.

"You don't have a mentor?" Fury asked.

Robin was gone.

* * *

"I'm thinking about changing my name," Robin stated as he stirred his coffee with a tight hand.

Peter glanced up. "Like, your actual name (which you have yet to tell me) or your hero name because I agree, Robin is a little…"

"Childish?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

"I know and the crappy thing is that I don't know what to call myself." For a while now, Dick had been contemplating Batman. But then he threw that idea down the drain because he felt that he couldn't be Batman. That was Bruce's job, he was Dick Grayson; he was not Bruce Wayne. He could not be the Batman. He's thought of other names but he honestly wasn't sure what to do. Names had crossed his mind and he certainly had thought about the names he had thought of in school that one time. Of course, a different name would require a change of costume.

"Have you thought of any names?" Peter asked, glancing around.

Robin's head fell back onto the pillow on the chair and groaned. "No, well… yes. I have, I also need to do costume stuff."

"Can you sew?" Peter asked, glancing over at his younger friend. Robin shrugged.

"Yeah, I can. Not well but I can."

Peter grabbed a napkin from the table and took a pen out of his backpack. He clicked it and stared at Robin, trying hard to get past the darkly tinted sunglasses. "Go my dear friend."

Robin glanced at him and smirked. "Javert."

"No."

Robin sighed. "Okay um, Spandex Man of Justice."

"No."

"You didn't even write it on the napkin!"

"No."

Robin rolled his eyes and pouted. "Fine. I rather liked Shadowstroke. Or maybe Nightwing."

Peter quickly scrawled them down, ripping the napkin in the process. He stared at it and blinked, setting down the pen and slowly lowering his head until it hit the table. Robin smirked and picked up another napkin and slowly wrote the two names down, fighting the urge to right down the first two. He slowly placed the napkin on Peter's head and leaned back in his chair to admire his work.

"You suck."

Robin rolled his eyes. "Just write idiot."

"Okay," mumbled Peter as he scrawled down another name. "What else?"

"Nova?"

Peter chuckled and shook his head. "Taken."

Robin straightened. "Really?"

"Why Nova anyway?"

Robin shrugged and stirred the straw in his drink around a little. "I don't know. I'm going for a costume change anyway. So I mean, depending on the name I could change the costume but I agree... Nova isn't really…me."

"So what do you choose?" Peter asked, glancing down at the two names on the napkin. They weren't the most creative people. At least, he wasn't. Sure, he could spin up imaginative stories that were totally out of whack and completely unscientific (he didn't know about Robin) but this was pathetic.

Robin seemed to be lost right then, staring off into the distance as he slowly and leisurely spun the straw around. His left finger twitched as he thought about something. His dark sunglasses reflected the late afternoon sun and Peter could vaguely see the shape of almond shaped eyes behind them, just barely as if they were fighting to be seen. Peter looked away uncomfortably. He knew nothing of this young friend and as he seemingly recalled memories, he wanted to know more. This brotherly instinct overwhelmed him as he watched the boy shake and shiver as if a cold feeling had slivered up his leg. Robin suddenly shifted in his seat and chuckled, shaking his head as if he agreed with what he was remembering but didn't exactly want to remember it.

He looked up and smiled, but it wasn't at Peter. "You must be Gwen!" He stood up and held out a hand. Slowly and horrifyingly, Peter turned around to see the pretty blonde girl that he was getting to know. The girl obviously had just walked in here not knowing that Peter and his friend were going to be here.

"Um, who are… who are you?"

Robin smiled. "My name is Richard, I'm a friend of Peter Parker, who I believe you know?"

Peter blinked. Robin, or Richard was it now, sounded so…. So formal, as if he were at a banquet and were meeting a rich, beautiful socialite. Gwen could be one, of course, Peter thought hazily.

"Um…" Gwen looked around the fifteen year old to see Peter. Then she grinned and shook Richard's hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm, well I see you already know."

Robin turned around and smiled at Peter. "I'll see you later, I have some math homework to do."

He smiled at Gwen and then nodded toward Peter, giving him the peace sign with the index and middle fingers up. It was their sign to meet at the church later. And then he lifted the hood of his jacket up and walked out, glancing around as he turned left and walked out of their view. Gwen and Peter watched the place where he had been gone from their sight in silence, listen to the Hallelujah play silently over the speakers, wafting through the café precariously. Gwen slowly took the seat where Rob- Richard had been sitting, setting her yellow bag on the ground.

"Do you eh, do you mind if I sit here?"

Peter looked over uncomfortably. "Nope."

They sat in silence.

Gwen looked around, shifting in her seat. "He's…"

"Weird?"

She blushed. "Yeah."

* * *

**AT THE CHURCH, LATER THAT OCTOBER DAY**

* * *

Spiderman glanced around the shadow cast church.

"Robin, I have an English 10 test to study for this better be quick."

His Spidey sense suddenly went off and he ducked but then suddenly, he was on the ground, pinned there by strong hands. A voice whispered in his ear, "It's Nightwing now."

Peter shifted to look at a tall by with a gray and black costume with a blue bird on his chest, the winds stretching all the way down his arms. His utility belt was gray and his boots were a sleek black leather and Kevlar mix.

Nightwing got off him, holding out a hand.

Peter stared at him. "Robin?"

"Nightwing, like I said. Like the new outfit?" The boy spun around, holding his arms out. It looked sturdy and well built. Peter frowned.

"You look older. The Robin costume made you look… young, childish. You look at least fifteen or sixteen in that."

Nightwing smirked. "Good, that was the point."

Peter suddenly looked suspicious and slid off the Spiderman mask. "How did you get that costume ready in one afternoon?"

Nightwing smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the older boy. His smirk held something, as if he were keeping something hidden. Peter blinked. His detective skills weren't honed to the point that Nightwing's were at, but Peter felt something was wrong with the picture around him. He glared at Nightwing, slowly lifting his hand to jab a gloved finger at him. "You planned this didn't you?"

Nightwing smirked. "Of course I did, with the help of Mr. Stark."

"Wait, Tony Stark?" Peter asked, stepping forward. "As in Tony Stark of Stark Technologies?"

Nightwing nodded. "You've missed out on a few things, I've been here a bit longer. I have a few connections."

"I can see that," Peter mumbled.

Nightwing laughed and then looked away, his arms still crossed across his muscular chest. Nightwing felt slightly uncomfortable in this costume though, but he wouldn't let Peter know it. Superman had once told him this story when he was eight years old of a man from the planet Krypton, a hero vigilante who went around with his accomplice Flamebird, doing good. The story had always stuck with him. He didn't know why but he always thought it was really cool that Superman that had told him a story from his home planet that he didn't even remember, something probably so sacred to him; Dick just couldn't imagine it. He always felt close to Clark, he was always like an uncle. The whole Justice League was his family then.

Now he didn't know what to think. Two years ago when he first came here and he was scared and alone and thirteen years old, he thought that maybe they didn't love him enough to get him back. Maybe Bruce never loved him, maybe he wasn't good enough for them. That's what he thought, maybe they gave up on finding him. But now he was older and realized… maybe Bruce couldn't get after him. Dick knew that the league would take technology and break it down to see how it work, who made it and why. Who knew what they had done to it and, as far as he knew, Doctor Fate was off world.

"So, Richard eh?"

Nightwing scrunched up his nose. "What, are you Canadian now, eh?"

"Nightwing."

Dick sighed and peeled the mask off. "Yeah, Richard."

"You… you're that kid!"

"Richard Grayson, the one and only!" Nightwing exclaimed, holding out his arms. "But… I don't exist."

"What do you mean?"

"Peter," Richard said slowly. "I'm from a different dimension."

_**To be continued…**_


	20. Demons

***Throws head against granite counters* Hate. Writers. Block. Sorry for the recently late chapters, I feel so so bad. **

**Note: I am using my new vocabulary words from my English 9 class, where we are doing a spelling bee. If words seem bigger than normal, this is my way of studying them. Writing them out so I get used to seeing them and therefore can spell them. I'll let you know if it works. **

**Obviously, Iron Man 3 never happened. *curses the end of the movie* WHY **

**Chapter 20: **

* * *

**MOMENTS LATER**

* * *

Peter stared at him for a moment.

"You're… what?"

Peter's face changed with clarity as he suddenly laughed. He maneuvered forward and laid a hand on Nightwing's shoulder. He glanced over at the bell and then back at his friend, his face mature.

"Very funny, Night," he indicated toward the sky, pointing with his free hand. He paused a moment, as if contemplating what to say. "I know science buddy, mostly chemical but I've read string theory and multiple dimensions stuff. Trust me, the only way alternate dimensions work is if there is something so powerful enough that it can bend reality to the point where it opens up a hole in time and space, creating a sort of portal that can-"

"Dude," Nightwing interjected, "Don't even continue. Next you're going to say people assume time is a strict progression of cause to effect and what not but I don't have time for quotes. My demons are out man. Just…don't. Look, I'm from an alternate dimension, I can prove it."

Peter crossed his arms, his obnoxious demeanor getting to Nightwing is such a way he couldn't describe. "The fact that you're going to such lengths… Who are you calling?"

Nightwing sent him a look, though he knew Peter couldn't detect it through the onyx night.

"Going to use a parable on me?" Peter inclined, his arms still crossed over his webbed chest.

"I'm calling someone, shh- Oh, hey!" He paused a moment, listening to the other side. "Look, I'm coming to your place and I'm bringing a friend, in civvies so you better be watching the camera's for us because I'm not going to signal you or sneak past guards. SHIELDs running all up and down your building and I'm not taking the risk, they can be pretty precise with searches." He hesitated a moment and then slid the phone into a pouch. "Get in your civvies."

Peter shot him a skeptical look. "Where are we going?"

"Away from the rancid smell hitting this place and… you'll see. I'm proving it to you."

Nightwing hadn't expected and immediate reaction to his revelation. His recluse from people had gone on too long, his rouge attitude to be away from or decline help had gone on too long from the moment he stepped into this new world. He had to revise these mistakes, hoping it wasn't too late. The scenario of his life was like a large storyline written by an over imaginative person who needed to write and had no social life. His scruples were all made up, given to him by parents and father-figures; they were not his own and he needed some. He needed to make decisions for himself, telling Peter was the first step. He knew that Peter wouldn't believe him, he was too logical (despite the hilarious sarcasm that would emitted from the boy like carbon dioxide) to come up with something, or even believe it. Dick had to call someone who he knew had evidence. His sleight to analyze people had only improved over the years here.

After they were both changed in civvies, Dick directed his friend through New York, getting confused with the streets and having to have Peter direct him down a street. The older boy was still skeptic and he tended to skew towards home if he felt uncomfortable. He still had no idea how to act in a social situation, while Dick would eloquently structure sentences as if the words were his sculpting tools and the sentences were his statue. Peter was jealous and Dick would defend himself by saying he was an artist.

Eventually they made it, and were now standing outside a tall electrified building. Peter suddenly looked solemn. Dick grinned.

"Stark Tower, biggest building in the NYC. Come Peter boy, you're going to meet a friend of mine."

"I'm older then you," Peter argued tackily, a taint of reclusion in his voice. Dick tallied his friends' awkward glances around the crowded New York intersection. After a few minutes of tempting, Dick finally coaxed him into walking across the street into Stark Towers. In a tawdry attempt to show him up Peter pulled out his prepaid phone and began texting people. Dick figured he was still a little miffed of the "oh yeah we're going to go visit Tony Stark haha surprise" and Dick knew that Tony Stark was practically Peter's idol. It was extremely amusing. They walked up to the titanic building, staring up at its looming and glaring lights that flooded through the unkempt night.

"Come on, walk in. He's watching the cameras."

"Can't you hack and just get up there from the roof."

Dick glanced at him with a knowing smirk, walking through the automatic doors into the bright white opening room, bustling with Stark Tech workers. He walked up to the security guard and just as he opened his mouth to speak, there was sudden commotion as someone stepped out of the elevator. Peter, being slightly taller, began to turn pale. Dick, being on fifteen, glared angrily at the back of people's heads.

"Mr. Stark!"

"Mr. Stark are you developing any new Iron Man technology?"

"Mr. Stark are you.."

"Coming through!" Stark's voice propelled itself across the entrance, the commotion suddenly settling down from the roar. He walked up to Peter and Dick, grinning ecstatically like he was a kid on Christmas morning. He wrapped his arm about Dick and pushed Peter and him toward the elevators, smiling and nodding at the crowd of flustered adults who were all trying to get his unhindered attention. Once in the elevator, the door closed behind them and Peter let out a sigh of relief.

"So," Tony began, "what brings you here?"

"Proving something to Peter here," Dick said nonchalantly. "Peter Parker, Tony Stark. Tony Stark, Peter Parker."

"Your hair is like David Tennants."

Peter gulped. "Thanks?"

After about a minute of waiting, they opened up into a large lab.

Peter whistled lowly. "Nice."

"Top of the notch!" Tony stated proudly, grinning as he opened his arms out wide. "Dr. Banner and I work here, he's out though so don't worry about possibly getting him angry."

As Tony turned away to get the notes that he knew Dick needed, both of the younger boys let out sighs of relief.

Eventually, Tony turned around with a Vanilla colored folder that had multiple sketches over it. He walked over to the boys and smiled, opening it up slowly and reaching in to pull out the pictures and notes. He handed them to Peter, along with the corresponding notes and pictures that SHIELD took and silently waited while it processed through his head. Dick watched carefully, studying his friend's body language and making inferences and hypothesis'. He leaned against a lab table filled with scraps of metal and glowing green alloys. He glanced away and at Tony, who was also watching Peter with an unusual serious look on his face; it didn't look right.

"I thought you were kidding," Peter said slowly after a minute.

"I wish that was true," Dick replied solemnly, slowly taking the notes and flipping through them before handing them back to Tony. "Keep those safe please, I don't want SHIELD seeing them at all."

Tony winked at him, a playful smirk that reminded Dick of Wally on his face, and turned away with the notes and files.

Peter looked at Dick. "You really are from a different Dimension."

Dick shrugged solemnly. "Completely. None of my… people exist here and none of you are there. I mean, I think you've got counterparts; you remind me of a friend… an old friend of mine. Tony is like someone I used to know. I guess it's just different here. There are theories in my world but… we're not sure about Alternate Dimensions, we've always known they existed though so that's good."

"How long have you been here?"

Dick look away, suddenly feeling lonesome. "Two years, almost three now in December. I'm over it now, they can't get back over here or gave up."

Tony was looking somewhere else and Peter was staring at him horrified. "You don't care? Haven't you tried to get back?"

"Doesn't seem there is a way here, either the tech isn't as advanced or whatever the hell sent me over here was Alien tech, which isn't a big deal considering we've got like a boatload of aliens in the League."

Both of the men before him looked at him curiously.

"The League?" Tony questioned.

They could see Dick straighten and begin to close up. "Nothing. Like I said, aliens. Probably alien tech and since the worlds are different, the aliens might be too."

"So you're stuck here?" Peter asked, looking scared for his friend.

Dick shrugged, smiling sadly at the New York skyline. "I'm over it. Moved on. I came to terms with it. It's still hard but, you know… what can you do?"

"Right," Peter murmured. "Got you."

* * *

**EARTH 16: WATCH TOWER**

* * *

"How much longer?" M'gann asked.

"We're ready to go in at any time, we're just getting the suits ready. Batman wants the Team to come. Superman is coming as well. Flash will stay so he can maintain the portal with Captain Atom and Icon," Wonder Woman replied to the young Martian, smiling at the green female.

M'gann smiled happily and turned back to float at the team. "Did you hear that!? We're going too!"

Artemis grinned. "I know, we're going to an alternate dimension."

"I can't believe it!" Suddenly, M'gann froze, his hands flying to her head as a different view slipped before her vision. She saw Robin, throwing a bloody batarang at an old cracked wall, anger on his face. She couldn't see his face though. He could feel the frustration and pent up rage but she couldn't see it.

"No, Robin please…" she begged, hoping he would see her. But he couldn't and slowly he faded from view.

And then it was gone. The entire team had frozen, staring at her. She felt Wonder Woman behind her muttering in what she guessed was Greek.

"Are you alright?" Wonder Woman asked. "Was it another vision?"

M'gann nodded, gasping for air. "Yes… yes it was. I saw Robin throwing a bloody birdarang into a wall. I couldn't see his face, but he was so… angry. I could feel it. I was so scared." She began to cry and before Connor could get there, Wonder Woman wrapped her arms around the girl and murmured comforting words to her in Greek.

"I was so scared for him!"

"He's probably just as scared," The Amazonian princess murmured back, stroking M'gann's hair.

"I know. He's so young."

Diana didn't say anything, a sinking feeling in her heart.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME STARK TOWER, MINUTES LATER**

* * *

"So um…"

"I don't want to talk about anymore Peter, it's done now anyway. Like I said, no big deal," Dick replied, waving his hand through the air dismissively. He turned away, looking out at the New York skyline and the bright, blinking lights. He stared at it for a moment, Peter watching him and Tony sending the boy a curious look. "I think we're done here Peter, bye Tony." Dick turned and walked around a messy table, his face twitching as he caught sight of a SHIELD file on the desk. Peter smiled awkwardly at Tony, who nodded in return, watching Dick, and then the elder boy turned around and followed his younger friend.

He stepped out into the hall, but found his friend nowhere. "Dang it," he mumbled, glancing around and cursing his friend's ability to literally disappear into thin air. Dick had sworn to him he was completely human, no mutant genes (or Metagene or whatever he had said) or alien or anything like that, but Peter was pretty sure the title "master of stealth" could be considered Dick's power. He walked out of the building, inching his way through security and out into the brisk cool air, taking a shark intake of air as the cold air clapped his face.

* * *

Dick blinked and slowly opened his eyes.

"We'll give you one call."

He knew that voice; he narrowed his eyes. "Why am I here?" he growled, glaring as Nick Fury took a seat across from him on the metal table. He was handcuffed in the back, to the chair so he couldn't lift his hands away but his feet were left unchained. That meant they were going to let him go somewhere and it would be a long walk. He glared at Fury, knowing that the man could see the anger in his blue eyes.

"You know why."

"To send me back?" he asked, breathing sharply.

"Maybe," Fury replied, sliding a piece of paper toward him. Dick glanced down at it, reading what was on it. After a few moments he looked up, attempting to keep the surprise from his face.

"That's not possible."

Fury smirked. "Sending you back? At the moment yes, but this; this we can do. You know it. There's the math and science right there."

Dick shifted in his seat, using his middle finger to press a small button in a metal bracelet that had a hidden lock pick embedded in it. After working with it, he managed to unlock the handcuffs and keep them there, tilting his head as he stared at the blank logic that glared back at him hauntingly. He wondered if it would work, this place had master tech and if it was combined with Tony's then it seemed that he would be able to do this. He was scared and he didn't want to believe this was actually possible. But it was, or at least it looked like it. But he was wary, he could feel it in his bones.

He leaned forward, taking his hands out and grabbing the file. Fury pursed his lips, glancing up at the camera that Dick knew was behind his head. Dick flipped through the rest of the paper, furrowing his brow here and there and shaking his head.

"Why?"

"You want to go home, don't you?" Fury asked, leaning forward and pointing at the highlighted part of the part, slowly looking up at Dick, who was looking very confused and scared. Fury felt almost sorry for the fifteen year old.

Dick gulped. "Yeah… but this."

"This?"

"They've forgotten me. If he… if he had really cared then… then he would come after me and now he doesn't care and." Dick shook his head quickly, pushing the paper back. "There's no point, it's too late." Behind the cameras, Maria Hill shook her eyes and bowed her head. Dick closed his eyes to breath and pushed the paper work away, turning away and folding his arms into his chest, staring at the floor as memories flashed before his eyes.

"John…"

"Richard."

Fury paused. "Richard?"

"Richard Grayson. Richard John Grayson, son of Mary and John Grayson, deceased. Thought you should know."

Fury didn't reply for a moment, looking at the side of Dick's north facing head. "You lied."

Richard hesitated a moment before speaking, lurching almost forward as he thought of what to say with his words, and the he turned and looked at the Director. "I was going with my training, as far as I was concerned I was in my own dimension and… in my civilian identity. When you said you didn't know me…"

"Are you famous?" Fury asked, wondering why Richard was suddenly so open.

Richard smirked knowingly. "You could say that."

"Are you going to call?"

Richard looked away again. "I don't know. Are you going to keep me here?"

There was no answer.

He chuckled, figuring it out already. "Of course you are. Does the Government or whoever control you know you are keeping me hostage? Cause like, I have rights to lawyer if you work for the g-o-v and I can and will plead the fifth if it comes down to that."

Fury stood up, sliding a mall phone across the table. "Just think about it." And then he stood up and left, the sliding door closing and locking behind him. Dick looked away, cursing his weariness and lose thinking. He was so emotional walking out of the workplace, his mood sucked of the effervescent that had been there before. He needed a denouement and he needed one fast. He also needed to get out of here. Neither Tony nor Peter saw him get kidnapped and he had a sudden sinking feeling that they wouldn't find out for a while. He closed his eyes and turned away from the little phone, thinking of Wally and his awkward gaucheness. Grinning though the thought, Dick smiled at the remembrance. Wally had this imperceptible ability to allow people into his awkward social grace, which would through them off originally, but then would draw them toward him. Dick, having much gauche because of his mother and Bruce, was like he had said before: he was eloquent.

But that had nothing to do with the phone across from him and everything to do with him ignoring it.

He stuck his tongue out at the camera, abandoning all maturity, feeling that the malfeasance of SHIELD was also below sixth grade thinking level. He glanced back at the phone and then away from it. He had this sudden urge to get in a fight with a SHIELD agent, a one on one melee with their pitiful attempts of training. He stared at the phone for a long while. Its laggard impression on the table making hi squirm and feel uncomfortable.

He felt suddenly giddy, like that time at the hospital they had to give him medical marijuana and he (despite not remembering much of it) kept laughing and jumping up and down and overall feeling like he did now; happy. Scared. He was scared too. He was really scared, frightened. He tried to remain outwardly nonchalant (he winced) toward the camera but he knew that wasn't going so well. He stared at the phone. He remembered what the paper said, the reminder a nuisance in his mind. _Go away_, he bit at it, shifting in his seat.

He snatched the phone and looked at it carefully. It looked like an ordinary phone but Dick knew it wasn't. He shook his head, clicking on the contacts tab. All it said was home, but there was no number. He slowly clicked in the phone number. He cursed SHIELD, pausing a moment as he stared at the camera. He knew they were watching him fall. Demons were out again. They were going to record this, they were going to watch him. They already had. He sighed and clicked the "call" button. He closed his eyes and held the phone up to his ear.

For a second… there was nothing.

And then it began to ring.

He held his breath.

One ring, two rings, three rings.

He counted carefully. The physics of this, the science of this shouldn't be possible. It went to voicemail. He closed his eyes as a tear fell down his cheek.

"_This is Wayne Manor. No one is able to come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep. If you would like to contact Mister Wayne at Wayne Tech, the number is 1-800-WAYNETECH. Thank you." _

Another tear fell down as Alfred's voice cut off with a beep. "Um… hey Bru… Bruce. I just… Hi. Um, I'm stuck in um… well you probably know. It's an alternate dimension. Um… sorry it's just been a while; I've grown up now. Um… please come get me. Please I need you and I was so lost. I've gotten better, getting better but… I need you. Tell um… tell Mom and Dad I say Hi and, Bruce-" It cut off, a long beep ending the call.

He silently cried as the phone slipped from his hands.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME, ONE DAY LATER HELICARRIER**

* * *

"Fury, damn you to hell."

Nick Fury internally groaned as Tony Stark's face took over his entire screen. "Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"You are going to let Nightwing lose so help me I will blow your face off. You have him, I know you do because I'm smart like that. You took him the moment he left the lab."

"You should not be having contact with him."

"So what! That has nothing to do with it. You can't stop him from trying to fit into this world."

"Yes we can," Fury bit, "He doesn't belong here. We're sending him back."

Tony paused a moment, studying Fury's impassive face, and then sighed, shaking his head. E looked away from the camera a moment and avoided saying anything as he thought about what Fury had just said. He looked back and then rolled his eyes. "You can't do that."

"Why?" Fury asked. "Because you've staked some sort of claim on him?"

Tony sighed again and rubbed his eyes, almost looking embarrassed. "You're using the notes that were given to you by me about the "strange energy signature"? Correct? Well, it's not going to work. The only thing here that can open a portal to different world at the moment is the Tesseract."

"Our scientists have analyzed-"

"Your scientists are a bunch of idiots, take offense," he ginned cheekily and glared at a row of men and women behind Fury, who were all frantically looking through the notes. "It won't work unless you can somehow manifest or recreate the power of the blue cube, stick it into some sort of device that will focus its power and find this kids home dimension. And you can't ask Thor because his hammer and power will only take him to other planets, not dimensions. Actually, only his home planet I believe so he still can't help you."

Fury paused. "You've known this for a long time."

"Of course I have."

"I've told this boy we're bringing him home."

Tony glared at him, leaning into the screen. "That's not my problem."

Fury glanced upward, rolling his eyes. But Stark was right, it wasn't his problem. He should fire the damn scientists. "We've already found his dimension."

Tony looked up, looking mildly surprised. "Have you now? And then you're going to have to find it again. Look, let me explain to you a thing. You've found his dimension, you know its universal code or whatever; great, good job, fantastic. What now? Well, you could probably patch a line into it. Maybe put in a momentary spring toward the dimensions that'll allow him to maybe call someone, maybe even a video chat. And the second he closes that phone, presses the call end button, you're screwed. You know the code, but universes are swerving, they do move and the only way you can get a call back is if that planet that he's from, is in the exact same position that it was in when he left. If that planet is in the same day, minute, time, hour, second. If it's hot or cold out, night or day. Anything, will matter.

"You got a call in; one in a millionth chance. What now? Wait another three years or however long it'll take. I bet you his universe is moving at a completely different time interval than us. You lied to him, you can't get him back; it won't ever be the same for him. Something, somehow it will be different."

* * *

**STARK TOWER, NEXT DAY**_DONT FORGET TO ADD A DATE HERE SOMEWHERE BECAUSE AH I CANT REMEMBER WHAT TO PUT HERE DAMN WHERE ARE MY NOTES_

* * *

"Tony."

"Pepper! If you became a Doctor, could I buy you all of Dr. Pepper."

She glared at him, throwing her magazine aside. "No."

"Please Pepper! I love you."

She smiled at him. "I know you do but seriously, I want to talk."

"About Nightwing?"

She nodded, turning to face him and taking a sip of wine. He sighed and set down the paperwork he was being forced to do and took a seat down across from her. "Alright, talk."

She sighed deeply. "I just… I want to talk to him. I mean… I do. I really do Tony, I want to talk to him and give him a lace to stay even if I have to duct tape that boy to the couch and force feed him."

"Duct tape is not going to hold that kid back."

She gave him a pointed look. "You know what I mean. I'm going to talk to him soon and then after that… we'll see. I don't get why you just don't ask him to come here or even just go get him. He won't be able to fight you in the Iron Man suit will he?"

"He'd find away. Pepper, I would go and drag him out here and make him stay here, but I can't; I can't betray his trust just yet."

"I thought he was talking to you!" Pepper accused, sending him another pointed look. He glanced away.

"He is, even gave him this phone." He took the phone out of his jeans pocket and slid it toward Pepper, looking outside as it began to rain. "I can call him and he can call me. I thought I would call him more… but I haven't. I should be though."

Pepper suddenly laughed, putting the phone down on the edge of the couch. "Tony, you sound so… out of character right now it's kind of funny."

"Hey… you're the one bringing it up. I'm sorry… but not."

"Yeah well… I'm glad we had this talk Tony."

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Me too." He smiled one last time and stood up, striding out of the room. She grabbed the phone and slipped it into her purse, put the purse on her shoulder and walked out of the room.

**_To be continued... _**


	21. I think I won

Of all the money that e'er I had,

I spent it in good company.

And all the harm that e'er I've done,

Alas! it was to none but me.

And all I've done for want of wit

To mem'ry now I can't recall

So fill to me the parting glass

Good night and joy be with you all.

So fill to me the parting glass

And drink a help for their befall

The gently rise and softly call

Good night and joy be to you all

Of all the comrades that e'er I had,

They are sorry for my going away,

And all the sweethearts that e'er I had,

They would wish me one more day to stay,

But since it falls unto my lot,

That I should rise and you should not,

I'll gently rise and I'll softly call,

Good night and joy be with you all.

**-The Parting Glass, old Irish/Scottish folk song**

**I feel like this was a very OOC chapter, at least the first half. Now, for future chapters I'm going to be playing a game with you guys. See if you can notice the allusion I'd be creating. **

**Dimensional 21:**

* * *

**FIVE DAYS LATER:**

* * *

Dick stared at the grey walls of his cell, cursing his life.

He felt something stir behind his door and glancing up, he watched as it slid open to see an older hand with kind eyes. He had never even seen this man before, but the suit was nicer touch than the black spandex he kept seeing everywhere. "Who are you?" he asked.

"My name isn't important, come with me."

Dick glared at him and then lurched forward lazily, walking to stand up by the agent, who cuffed him and led him from the cell. His hatred toward SHIELD had only grown since he'd come here. Not only had they lied to him about sending him home, but they kept him locked up in a cell… as if he were a prisoner. It was like he was a caged animal that had escaped into the big bad world and not animal control was here to lock him back up, and he didn't want to. Biting his lip, he and the agent walked the halls until they came to the main control room of the Helicarrier.

Fury greeted them and Nightwing's eyes narrowed. The Agent and Fury talked in low voices, discussing something beneath their breath. He heard the agent respond to a name, but he couldn't hear exactly what the name was. It started with a "C" but that was all Dick understood. Eventually, the Agent walked away, casting a sad pitiful look toward Dick before he disappeared from view. Breathing heavily, Dick shifted his footing so he could see over the edge of the niche above the rest of the agents of SHEILD. He caught profiles on what seemed to be undiscovered heroes. He saw a plan for a space expedition, with a man called Dr. Richard Reed. Dick turned away, back toward Fury.

"You… are causing us a bunch of trouble," Fury stated, walking forward to face him. The fifteen year old shrugged, his face impassive.

"If you didn't keep me here, I wouldn't be an issue. Just let me do what I do and protect New York."

Fury tilted his head to the side, as if contemplating what to say. It seemed he was confused about the boy in front of him. The enigma of life before him had really put things into perspective.

"There are much more… capable people to be handling New York," Fury inclined, taking a step back and looking down at his agents.

"How long has To- Mr. Stark been doing this? Hell, he started about a few weeks before I came, right? He was in Afghanistan and then he came here and what now? He stopped some people from terrorizing him? But he's never really been on patrol has he? No. What about Captain Capsicle? What about him? He can move fast… but not that fast and I can guarantee he ain't upping his tech anytime soon. Your agents? You know you can forget that, you can't disperse them into a city when the Government of the United States of 'Murica needs them. The Hulk? He might break part of the city for all you know. I am the only one he can get around New York and now I have help.

"You're just mad that you aren't deploying me or Spiderman. You know it's true; you want to be in control and I can tell you this right now, you aren't getting it."

Dick nodded his head, finishing his rant, and turned away from Fury. Fury said nothing, closing his eyes out of pent up frustration and anger. He knew that this kid had inherited some nasty stubbornness, or picked it up somewhere and he knew that this kid would only work with him when he was ready and he certainly wasn't ready yet. Stepping forward, he put a hand on Dick's shoulder, getting ready to say something that could've been quoted by John Green. The surety of the by bit Fury's emotions and he felt bad for the boy. But he would come, when time was ready.

Just as he opened his mouth, the glass exploded. Fury found himself on the round with the boy over him, arms around him protectively like he had been protecting him. Shattered glass blew past their heads. Dick jumped up in a defensive position, his fists ready. Air blew around them and the air was tainted faintly of ozone and smoke. Fury pulled out his pistol. "I wonder whose fault this is," he inclined tacitly. Dick shot him a look that said "not mine".

A bright light engulfed the foremost command center of the Helicarrier and then it fell away, showing the Iron Man. Tony's voice rang out from it.

"Let him go," Tony snarled. Fury lowered his weapon, cursing the son of Howard Stark. Dick was grinning. As he glanced at Fury, his grin faltered. Fury was staring at him, his eyes almost begging him not to go. Stubborn as he was, Dick wanted to stay for a moment. He wanted to talk things out, but he wanted to leave. And damn everyone, Dick Grayson was going to do that. He leapt over the iron bars and toward the Iron Man suit. The suit landed on the ground and began to open but there was nothing inside. "Get in," Tony sparked lightly. The solders of the suit shifted and allowed Dick to stand inside. He felt the metal close and grasp his body. He was as tall as Tony now. He was getting John Grayson's height; the thought made him smile. The suit closed him and without him doing anything, the thrusters acted and pushed him upward, his arms moving with the mechanical solders. The suit flipped him around and he bolted from the command center. At first he thought he was going to Stark Tower but soon he was past New York City.

"Where am I going Tony?" Dick asked.

"Do you know the definition of the word symposium?" Tony asked, his voice ringing in Dick's ears. Dick winced but he looked at all the information that the suit was feeding him.

"Yeah, it's a meeting to discuss some subject. Why?"

"We're having one."

"Now?"

"Pepper can be very convincing when she threatens you with something."

Dick chuckled. "Pepper?"

"Special someone."

"I see… But where am I going?"

"Ever been to Malibu?"

Dick raised his eyebrows and let the suit take him across America. It took, probably, about fifteen minutes with Tony edging the sound barrier. Dick was amazed even more now by the tech and the suit as a whole, however at the moment he was wary for this meeting. He trusted Tony… to some extent. Everyone in this world was foreign and different to him. Peter… he trusted. And sure, Peter was like Wally except that he couldn't talk correctly to girls, wasn't a ginger, and he was shy and soft-spoken, but he'd found a common ground with tat and accepted it and now he was friends with the older boy, probably even best friends. And maybe even brothers. He shook the thought away. The other avengers were a whole different story. He knew Captain America a.k.a Steve Rodgers. He reminded Dick painfully of his Uncle Clark; by Uncle he meant Bruce's best friend, the super powerful Kryptonian Alien Clark Kent. He wondered if maybe perhaps they were designed after one another, like the universes made similar copies. At least, they acted the same.

Black Window, whom he hadn't met, seemed like a darker version of Wonder Woman and he'd only seen pictures. Though, Wonder Woman could get pretty dark when she wanted. Dick guessed growing up in a feminist society of warrior woman from Greek Mythology would do something to the mind. Then again, she was used to it and who was he to judge? Hawkeye was an archer like Green Arrow but that was the only similarity he could find. Hulk was… Hulk.

Dick looked down and saw a huge house perched on a cliff, a view of the setting sun giving the white house a golden hue. The suit shifted and turned upward, so that he was floating vertically. The suit lowered down onto a platform and then further down into what looked like a workshop. He saw Tony standing there, smirking his head off with glee. As the suit peeled itself off his body like a cocoon ripping away, Dick tripped out, thrusting his hands out and landing a pushup position. Tony was next to him, holding him.

"Okay?"

"Fine," Dick breathed, blinking quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. That suit takes a little getting used to. I think I'll stick with Spandex and armor, thanks."

Tony laughed, patting the boy on the back. "As expected. Pepper is waiting upstairs… she really wants to talk to you."

Dick hesitated a moment. "You make it seem as if I acquired a meeting with a genius mastermind."

Tony smiled dryly and showed him the stairs. Dick suddenly felt as if he were meeting Artemis's or Zatanna's equivalent. He slowly walked up the stairs, his hands gripping a hard acrylic-like wooden railing that spun up with the metal spiral staircase. Dick took each step silently, as if he weren't sure what he was expecting. He felt he knew what Pepper was going to offer, or what she was going to tell him. He walked up to a grand living room that differentiated so differently than the manor's wooden castle insides he stopped for a second and wondered what he expected.

He'd expected to be home.

The entire front wall was glass and showed the sun hovering barely over the Pacific Ocean. There was a cherry red couch with a red headed woman sitting on it, staring at the golden rays that were flooding the room with its hue. Dick carefully walked forward, his heart beating. The woman, Pepper he figured, was very familiar. Her presence, her hair, everything was from someone he'd seen. Maybe his theory was correct, maybe people were designed after one another. Sometimes it was mentally or socially and maybe sometimes, now, it was physically. He'd heard Barbara's voice and now he was seeing _her. _Not Barbara, no, but someone that had been far too important and influential in his life. He winced.

"Pepper?"

The woman looked up and Dick's heart stopped. She smiled dryly, standing up and walking over and hugging him. She moved away from his shocked figure. "Yes, the one and only. Richard…"

He abruptly pulled away from her, ripping himself from her arms in such a way that she jerked backward from fear. He stumbled back and then rolled backward into a somersault and landed lightly on his feet. His glare was accusing, like he was flustered and angry that she had hugged him. Tony was behind him, watching carefully. "Is this some kind of joke?" Dick accused, but he didn't seem to be talking to either of them; he'd turned toward the ocean, looking up at the sky which was now a bright reddish orange color, mixed with yellow and dark navy blue of night, twinkling with little stars.

"Dick…" Tony began, reaching out to touch him. Dick jerked away, pulling himself toward the window. Pepper caught a glimpse of tears in his eyes.

"This has to be a joke! It's not fair! Why would you do this to me?"

"Richard who are you talking to?"

Dick hesitated a moment, as if deciding whether or not to answer. He looked at her with beautiful crystal cobalt blue eyes, shining with tears; she'd never seen a fifteen year old cry before. "I… you know my situation right?"

Pepper nodded, staring at him curiously. She glanced at Tony, who shrugged. She looked back at the half-gypsy. The boy was gripping his arms tightly, their deep tan becoming a pale white from the pressure.

"Well… you see. Pepper, right? You, um, you look like my mom."

Pepper breathed a moment, closing her eyes and turning away. Dick looked back out at the fading light as the stars over the ocean shone through the thick layer of pollution. Pausing a moment, Pepper opened her mouth to say something. "And you miss her?"

"She's been dead since I was eight, and my dad. My family. The whole lot of them. It was an accident… I was the only one who survived unscathed. I went every year to visit her grave on my birthday… that was when it happened."

"On your birthday?" Tony asked. Dick nodded and Pepper looked away, biting her lip.

"Tony can you…. Can you leave?"

Tony opened his mouth to argue but one look from Pepper made him nod and walk away with one final glance toward the boy he cared for. Once he disappeared beyond the stairs, Dick collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands. "I watched it happen Pepper. I saw them fall and it's my fault."

"No Richard, it isn't," Pepper tried to argue, but his curt laugh cut her off.

"You weren't there!" he snapped. "I was! I saw everything happen! You just… you don't and you can't understand. I got over it… well, I thought I had. I guess I didn't. It's just… I lost my first family and… and then I got adopted. And then I'm Robin the Boy Wonder, protégé to Batman."

"Was that your adoptive father?" Pepper asked.

Dick nodded. "He's the one who trained me. It is okay, it wasn't like torture or anything. Bruce wasn't like that. He'd lost his family too, he was there when mine died. He saw me in him and he didn't want me to be overcome with revenge like he did. He trained me to channel the anger of my parent's death for good. He made me who I am. And then… with the team and everything. Bruce was a part of the League, they called themselves the Justice League of America. They had… partners. I was Batman's partner, we patrolled and took care of the Gotham crazies. Superman… had Metropolis, Wonder Woman had DC. Green Arrow had Star City and Flash had Central. I don't want to list them all off, too long but a few of them had s kids as partners. I mean, we trained with them and were almost as good, maybe not as… smart and we couldn't make those moral decisions like they could, but we were good. Good enough to convince them to allow us to be deployed as an operational covert-ops team. The team was my second family but… now I've lost them too."

Pepper didn't saying anything for a few moment, sliding her arm around him and giving him a hug. "I'm sorry Richard, I really am."

He nodded, wiping away a lone tear that slid down his flushed cheeks.

"You know… Tony and I are here for you, and Spiderman (I think). If you need to talk… we would love to take you in."

Dick looked up at her sharply. "You mean like… foster?"

"You've been living on the streets haven't you?"

He smiled shyly. "Abandoned Opera house actually."

She sighed. "Richard… you can live at Stark tower. You need some people and putting yourself in that position where you have to care for yourself. Despite all you've been through… you're only fifteen."

He looked away, but his eyes said he'd already made up his mind. "Richard?"

"One week."

"What?"

"One week and then… I'll come to Stark Tower. But Pepper…" He paused. "I don't trust the other Avengers. I don't…. I just feel nervous."

Pepper smiled. "Don't worry Richard, none of them would take you to SHIELD."

He nodded slowly as if he had trouble believing this. "I'm kind of glad you look like my mom Pepper. It's good to see her again."

* * *

Tony woke up to a note from Dick. The sticky note was on a small piece of paper, stuck to it so that the edges of the stickiness lined the bottom of the folded paper. Tony groaned lightly, stretching and then picked it up, feeling it was too early in the morning for him to be in a pleasurable mood. Reading the note, he closed his eyes and shook his head. Sometimes he loved the kid, sometimes the kid was a little bastard. But not everyone could please, Tony supposed. He stuck the note on the glass coffee table and unfolded the large thick paper. Had Tony been into art and creativity, he would have known the paper was specifically for Watercolors.

It was a drawing of the Ironman suit, except it wasn't a drawing. It was done completely with watercolors of gold, red and blue. He was floating over what seemed to be a city, done in greys and soft grunge whites. His hand nimbly touched the colors, and he smiled. Taking the picture down stairs to the lab, he tacked it up in front of his drawings, smiling as it contrasted against the blue paper.

"Tony? Where's Richard?"

Tony didn't reply for a moment, all he did was stare at the present.

"I failed, Pepper."

She walked up to him, her eyes catching the drawing. "What?"

"I failed… but I think I won."

* * *

**FIVE DAYS LATER**

* * *

"How the hell do you want me to approach this?"

Tony looked up to see Nick Fury stomping down the staircase to his living room. Tony grinned. "Nicholas! We seem to talk a lot more these days, is there something you want to tell me?"

Fury glared at him through the eye patch and Tony rolled his eyes, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest; the light of the reactor was dimmed through his shirt, but you could just see it barely over his arms. "What?"

"Mr. Stark," Fury snapped. "Do you want to tell me why you broke out one of my-"

"Prisoners? Subjects? Patients? Dick is a confused human being who can't tell who to trust. He'd probably trust you more if you didn't keep showing up in his through tracking him, accusing him, lying to him, capturing him and bunch of other stuff this fifteen year old doesn't need."

"We were going to send him home!"

"No you weren't!" Tony yelled, his voice rising. Fury took a precautionary step back. "You lied to him! You told him he could go back! You know he told Pepper yesterday, that he's lost his family. That they're gone. They can't help him. He's lost, Fury; lost. And telling him you can get him back is just plain mean and then saying you actually _can't _is a slap in the face."

Fury didn't say anything. Tony was right. "I know."

"You know what you- What?"

"I know."

Tony stared at him for a few moments and then turned and walked away. "Go screw yourself, Nick."

* * *

"So what do you think is up?"

Dick glanced at Peter from the rubix cube he was fumbling with.

"I don't know. I mean… I was kidnapped… broken out by Tony Stark and taken to Malibu and stayed a night. Admitted pretty much everything to his girlfriend Pepper who kind of looks like my mom (dimensional differences suck man) and then left the next morning after promising I would pretty much move in with the two of them within a week."

Peter bit into his sandwich and then set it down onto the library table, pushing his chemistry book forward so the librarian didn't see it. He looked at his friend, who he'd been worried sick about for the past three or so days. Mary Jane had tried to contact him, asking what was wrong (ginger powers gave her the ability to sense trouble) and he'd been ignoring her calls by repeatedly visiting Gwen at the lab, who had taken kindly to the sudden attention. Harry was one who Peter hadn't seen in a few days and Mary Jane had complied with "he's away in Europe with his mom" and Peter decided not to press.

"That's… wow."

"I'm fifteen and she looked like my mom and really that's my only defense."

Peter looked up. "Yeah, if I could meet my mom again, or a woman that looks like her I would be like that to. But then I'd feel bad about dumping all my problems on her." He glanced over at Dick, who grimaced.

"Peter! Peter!"

"Shhhh!"

Mary Jane burst through the bookshelves with a paper in hand, grinning as her read hair flew back behind her. She saw Richard and stopped short, opening her mouth to say something, wondering why the boy was sitting there having what seemed to be a serious conversation with her best friend.

"I…" she paused and watched as they exchanged silent looks toward one another and then back at her. It was obvious they'd already spent a lot of time with each other.

"MJ!" Peter exclaimed, earning him a "shhh" from across the library. He glanced over and rolled his hands and then leaned forward across the table. "Hey, this is Richard… he's an upperclassman. You've seen him around, haven't you?"

Richard rolled his eyes, and he figured out that Peter hadn't said one thing to his other friends, except for the time he'd met Gwen, Richard had never really met anyone else of Peter's friends. The encounter with Gwen had been slightly forced anyway, but he'd seen her around and it was enough that he could joke about the two of them without anything going wrong.

"Um, Mary Jane?" It was a question, but of course he knew her name. He'd done background checks on everyone. The only one who he didn't like was Harry Osborn, whose father Norman seemed like the tech-science idiot of this world (kind of like Lex Luthor but with red hair) and seemed like he was trying too hard in a business that was doing okay and didn't really need to pressure and hard-core care he was giving it. Bruce had given him random business lessons when he was old enough to understand that the economy and stock market (and supply and demand and all that) were like small children that needed way more attention and love than they really needed, but actually do need because then they get depressed.

"Yes."

Mary Jane abruptly sat down. Richard stared at her for a moment, as if deciding if he liked her. Mary Jane squirmed. Normally she was head strong, but this boy intense blue eyes seemed to bore into her entire existence, as if he'd seen another her somewhere and he couldn't bare the resemblance. Then he grinned and she saw a handsome looking blue eyed fifteen year old boy who was a junior sitting in front of her.

"Cool, Richard Grayson. So, I've seen your pictures in the school newspaper! Real good, you remind me of an old friend of mine."

She watched as Peter shot him a look and then she grinned. "Oh really? Because I take good pictures? Well, I'm flattered!" She smiled and then turned to her friend, pushing out the piece of paper. "Guess who is going into modeling?"

He looked up. "It's Harry isn't it, I knew it."

She smacked him on the arm. "Idiot, of course it's not. It's me! I'm going to weekend camp over the winter break and I mean, isn't that awesome?"

Peter grinned. "Yeah, that's great!"

She beamed and stuffed the paper in her purse. "That was the registration form."

Richard smiled sadly and pulled away, picking up his backpack. "Well, um…I've gotta go. Look, it was a pleasure meeting you Mary Jane. I'll see you later Peter. Um… we'll talk about what we were talking about before later," Richard shook his head and Peter laughed awkwardly. "Totally not whelmed right now. I'll see you two later." He turned and walked away from the pair, both of them watching as the fifteen year old disappeared from view.

Mary Jane pursed her lips. "He's a little formal, like he was raised in a highly socialite society but didn't like it but he's moved so now he's using his training as a cover."

Peter blinked and then laughed. "Yeah right, he came from somewhere out in Europe or something. Like… I don't, he doesn't talk about it much."

"Where he's from?"

"Yeah."

She paused.

"Then I don't know."

_**To Be Continued…**_

* * *

***throws head against computer, plays minecraft, watches Smallville, goes to school, does homework, watches community, draws fanart, reads fanfiction, goes on 30 minute run/backride***

***still complains about writing fanfiction***


	22. Pepper

_**Chapter dedicated to: LucyWithoutDiamonds**_

**Chapter 22: **

* * *

**EARTH-16 UNIVERSE**

* * *

Everyone was ready, Bruce thought. He stood by his desk in the manor, touching a sketch book he found in a secret panel even he hadn't known about in Dick's room. He went in there a few hours ago, just to look around and saw the tapestry had been moved, behind it he had found Dick's sketchbook filled with drawings of Gotham City, the manor, Batman and Robin himself, there were some of the team, as well, and Bruce found there was a picture of a garden, looking very familiar to the ones Wayne Manor hosted behind its large walls. He stared at it, wondering why Dick had kept it from him. But he would find out, because the portal was ready.

He smiled.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME, STARK TOWER**

* * *

"Pepper? Pepper are you here?" Dick walked into the main room of the tower. He walked in on Pepper and a man with really nice sunglasses on his face.

"Clint, leave."

"What?"

Dick's eyes widened and he glared at the Avenger/SHEILD agent. Clint shrugged and left, mumbling under his breath as he walked by Dick. After he left, Dick rushed forward and gripped the counter. "I have to talk to you Pepper, it's important."

She walked forward and grasped him on the shoulder. "What is it?"

He paused a moment and looked away. "It's… about my home. My old one." He glanced away again and toward New York. His stuff was all packed up, he was going to go through with this. How they were going to explain this to the press however, Dick didn't know. He knew that this was going to cause them a lot of trouble. But that wouldn't stop him.

"What? What's wrong?" Pepper asked, guiding him to the couch.

"My… adoptive father was… Bruce Wayne. He was a billionaire. Like, he made a lot. I don't know if it was more or less than Tony but… he took me in because he saw himself in me. He saw I needed someone and he brought me to Wayne Manor and took me in as a ward. He… didn't adopt me. But he took me in and… it's too repetitive." He wiped a tear away. Pepper pulled him into a hug and stroked his hair; the poor boy.

"Sweetie… what are you worried about?"

He pulled away from her. "Losing another family."

She stared at him. He already thought of Tony and herself as a sort of family.

"I mean… it's like it's happening all over again."

"Richard… I want you to get your stuff and I want you to bring it here."

He nodded slowly and drew himself away, standing up and pursing his lips. "I know it seems a little silly, it is, but thanks Pepper." She nodded and smiled at him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Of course it isn't silly, the squeeze told him. He started from the room, starting dejectedly at the floor. He was, of course, uncomfortable with how this was going but he didn't see how he could go on with living in the streets. He'd explain the situation to Peter in the library and Peter had haphazardly offered to bring him to his Aunt May's but Dick knew of their financial trouble and didn't want to intrude. Plus, he didn't think he could look Peter's Aunt in the eye knowing he could have saved her husband. Dick had accepted Tony's offer and he wasn't going to back out; he made himself promise he wouldn't and now he couldn't.

He wondered what living with Pepper and Tony would be like. He'd never had a "mom" at the manor, but he'd certainly had mother-figures. Diana, or Wonder Woman, was one and sometimes Selina Kyle (when she wasn't flirting with Bruce, she was mothering Richard) and he really loved them but neither of them had been really motherly. Sure, Diana would take him out to eat and talk with him and teach him about the Greek Heroes and stories she knew but she wasn't at the manor all too much. Selina was only there when Bruce and she were… talking at the manor or when Batman and Robin caught her stealing something. Sometime he saw Selina out of uniform and those were the times when she was on his side and mothered him (i.e. she would make sure he didn't have any new scars, he was eating, he was healthy, he was happy, he had friends; those types of things). He liked both of them but Pepper seemed… different.

She was caring and had the look in her eyes when you looked in them, you just melted. Her smile was calming and it made Dick feel like he was back in the train, traveling with his mother and father and his aunt and uncle and cousin and it made him feel happy. Neither Diana nor Selina ever made him feel like that with a smile.

He smiled at Pepper as he stepped in the elevator, ready to bolt if need be.

The ride was short and quick and when he walked out into the streets of New York, he was blasted with a fiery explosion of heat. Dick dove to the ground, pushing a couple beside him with him, as red flames rumbled toward him. Dick gritted his teeth as his body hit the asphalt and glass shattered over him. Rolling onto his side, he saw a large being howling over him, flames licking his body. Dick narrowed his eyes, pulling out an ice pellet from his belt, which was hidden under his jacket. The fifteen year old slowly crawled up, little bits of glass in his arms and scorch marks in and on his body made it difficult to get up, but he managed.

"Help me!" The figure screamed, reaching out toward a sobbing woman was curled into the tire of a car. "Help!"

Dick threw the ice pellet, which exploded on the ground and crawled up the fire figure, which screams of "help!" were lost to the ice. Dick, breathing heavily, smiled that the civilians were safe. NYPD suddenly engulfed the space, covering the iced figure and picking up civilians and asking them if they were alright.

One grabbed his shoulder. "You okay, kid?"

Dick looked up to see a brunette haired woman with large glasses. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit of glass and some burns…"

"I need a medic!" She called, guiding him to an ambulance while he unwillingly followed. The grip on his shoulder caused him to wince and glare at her. "This kid has glass in him! He needs some anesthetic!"

Dick glared at her as she tugged on his arm, pulling to the ambulance. The paramedics were scrambling burned people off to the hospital, others were providing ointment to burns while more others were treating the glass wounds right there. Dick rolled his eyes; he could do this at home. He seemed to have this penchant toward doing things on his own now and he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. The cop plopped him next to medic, who began examining his injuries. Worried that they would have to uncover his scars (which he would have a ball explaining), Dick tugged his arm away with a shout of repression.

"Don't touch me!"

"Look kid, I'm trying to help!" The medic replied, grabbing Dick's arm and pulled it close; it wasn't harsh, just fast and Dick winced. "See, you're hurting," the medic replied, sending him a pointed look. Dick bit his lip and watched at the medic rolled up his sleeves, revealing small thin and random white lines. You couldn't notice them from far away (the ones he got from Two-Face and Joker you could, however) but once you got close they were more than visible. The medic looked up, worry in their eyes. The cop had left and for that Dick was glad. "What are these?"

Stiffening, Dick told her, "I have more recent injuries you can attend to, or else don't say a word." He knew it was rude but it had to be done. The medic gave him a look but then she turned and began picking out the little glass pieces. He winced each time and wished they were at a hospital doing this, not on a street corner in New York, but there were far more important people they needed to see right now. He looked to where the fire guy had been standing but he was gone, along with the large NYPD Van that had been in here (brought to you by Ford) and he bit his lip; he needed to figure out where flamebird (the fire looked like wings, what could he say?) came from, and he wasn't exactly sure where to start.

He also wondered how the medics and police were here so face. It wasn't like them, they were almost always ten or twenty minutes late. Then again, who know how long this thing had been rampaging through New York.

Wincing and trying to ignore the pain, Dick thought about his detective skills. They'd certainly improved but he wasn't at Batman level. He couldn't be, because he hadn't been training with Bruce for three years (vaguely he wondered if Bruce had found a new Robin) and the only thing Dick could do (and what he had done) was build off what he knew and the mistakes he made. He could backtrack flame boy's trail (the footprints that were blackened spots on the road gave it away) and find where he came from. But what then, break him (or her come to think of it) out of prison and tell them rampaging through town was a no-no? The thing had been crying for help, as if it didn't want to be like this… Dick wondered if it had something to do with the new meta… mutants, they were called mutants here, he reminded himself, that were beginning to show up here.

"Done," the medic said, pulling away. As soon as she said that, Dick made a dash toward the opera house, promising himself he would come back out here later tonight and track flame princess's trail. It couldn't be too hard, unless they washed away the charred marks of the street. The again, he thought as he pushed through a crowd of Chinese tourists, the melted parts of gravel and concrete might give him a lead. Though that was going on a limb there (if you can't tell, Dick's sarcasm certainly had increased over the past few years, not that he'd been talking to people much).

"Dick!"

Dick turned around, swinging his leg around so that he hit his pursuer in the stomach. Peter, caught off guard even with the Spidey Sense, was flung into a concrete wall.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!"

Peter nodded curtly, holding his stomach with one hand and the other clutching Dick's right hand.

"No… no that's fine, I shouldn't have snuck up on you; I fairly recall what happened the last time."

Dick smirked and patted Peter on the shoulder, recalling the time Peter had jumped at him as a joke on patrol and ended up slammed into a brick wall with his arm about to be broken. Since coming here, Dick was more than a little harsher but he still refused to kill. However, body casts and broken limbs were no issue (he had felt bad before, not so much anymore).

"Yeah, good times. What's up? What do you need? And how did you find me?"

"Good times?! You almost broke my arm!" Peter waved it away, "But nevermind that! Listen, I need you to come to my house, alright? This is important."

Dick looked at the soon-to-be college student skeptically. "Why? Is it something to do with Gwen? MJ?"

Peter shook his head, "No, but… I want to discuss something with you. It's important… to me."

Dick felt the sincerity in his voice and nodded.

"Good, I'll swing us around," Peter said suddenly, snatching Dick and shooting out a web from his wrist he jumped up and swung forward with the acrobatic skills he acquired and the ones he got from Dick. Dick felt the rush of the air and had a momentary flashback.

"What's with all the blood on your arms?" Peter yelled, setting them down on the Daily Bugle building.

Dick glanced away respectively. "Well I got glass shattered on me, let's go to your house I'm getting tired out here and I don't feel like explaining why I have a few cuts and bruises on my arms to you on the top of a building in New York city with the wind blowing me over."

"You certainly didn't lose your sense of humor," Peter stated dryly.

Dick smirked. "Never!"

* * *

**EARTH-16 WATCHTOWER OUTSIDE THE PORTAL**

* * *

Flash stared at the readings, frowning. He turned back to Batman who was standing there staring at the portal, waiting for the others to prepare the Bioship. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, turning away again.

"Barry?" Bruce asked, walking forward. "Something wrong?"

"Well," Barry muttered, "there may be."

"Care to share?"

"Never thought I would hear the word 'care' leave your mouth Bats," Barry joked but then turned serious at Bruce's glare. "Right, um, anyway look at these notes. If you can see here, not only are you traveling dimensions but you're traveling universes. There's… pocket tunnels. Of course, this converter is going to grab onto a pocket tunnel and control it. If you look here," Barry picked up another sheet of notes, "there are going to be fluctuations… in time. No I've studied the speed force* before and this pocket tunnel stuff are like that, though slightly different. If you see here, you'll be in the vortex well… two years." Barry looked up. "You won't age or anything, it'll fly by as if it were four seconds and, well, that's just it. For us here, it'll be four seconds. I've made calculations based on the pocket tunnels. The time intervals in the tunnels are different. You won't age, like I said, because it'll feel like four seconds but will really be two years."

"Will Dick have to wait two years?"

Barry hesitated before replying. "I don't know, I'd have to be over there to do the math and such. Physics is… tough, per say, because you have to study it from all ends."

"Then I don't care."

"But..," Barry didn't get to continue when Bruce walked away, and didn't realize that Bruce was willing to do anything, anything, to get back his son.

* * *

**EARTH PRIME, PARKER RESIDANCE**

* * *

Dick watched as Peter paced his room, walking just before the wall before he would turn back around again. "So," Dick began, "Why am I here?"

"Because I've been thinking."

"Isn't that a sign of life?" Dick questioned, leaning back on Peter's bed.

Peter glanced at him, huffing. "Well yes but that's not the point."

"And the point is?"

"The point I've been thinking about my spider bite. I mean, it was a genetically enhanced spider that bit me and now I can lift like thousands of pounds, I can climb up walls because of small sticky hairs on the tips of my fingers and toes and I have the knowledge to make my own spiderweb. I mean…," Peter stopped short, as if he were afraid to go on.

Dick gave him a curious look. "What?"

"I mean…," Peter bit his lip but then sighed, hanging his head. "That must mean I'm not completely human anymore, right?"

Dick pursed his lip, nodding curtly. "Yes."

"Well… I'm a little bit spider, right?"

"Yeah."

"You don't care?"

Dick shrugged, leaning forward. "No, some people will but I don't think you're very well going to tell anyone that you're not close to. But let me tell you something, Peter, in my world we had people like you. And we had mutants, but they weren't called mutants." Peter nodding, not saying anything. Dick continued.

"They were called meta-humans. The meta-gene is, to say the least, is a gene in the human body that changes and grows to certain adaptions. Now, mind you, this gene is different with every person, more or less. It's in everyone body, lying dormant. It might be different here, at least, it might be different in the sense of how it's passed on and all that. I'm guessing that you have the "meta-gene" or whatever they call it here (if they even know about it yet) and the spider DNA combined with the gene and the effects are the ones you just previously suggested. And besides, you're still human- just a different type of human."

Peter stared at Dick, opening his mouth only to snap it shut again. "You should go into a science major."

Dick laughed, throwing his head back. "That's it? That's all you have to say?" the fifteen year old asked, laughing again.

Peter shrugged, grinning slightly. "Well yes. It's true either way."

"I suppose," Dick mused, falling back on Peter's bed with his hands behind his head. "And I've been thinking about going into Criminology; maybe I could become a cop. Besides, it's going to be easy to find where the bad guys are. A… friend of mine he was a reporter, just so he could keep in tabs with what was going on."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he managed. You know, being an alien from another galaxy gave him some… super abilities."

"An alien?" Peter questioned, during toward his friend.

"I knew a few of them," Dick responded, sounding nonchalant. "Though, he wasn't very… forthcoming with it, I guess. He was in later years and all but not so much when he was a kid; he grew up on earth."

Peter winced, pulling his computer chair to sit down. "That sort of sucks."

Dick shrugged. "I guess, but he lived with it. I mean he had worries and all but… he's fine now."

"Name?"

"Clark. He was practically my Uncle."

Peter looked away, he always forgot that Dick had other people before this world. He was second; they weren't. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Dick stated, "It's probably best I talk about it."

"Anyone else you want to tell me about then?" Peter asked, suddenly interested. The subject of Dick's old life was very… limited. Peter knew a bit, like that his parents had died and he had seen it happen. He knew that and that he was adopted by the man who became his mentor; Batman. He didn't know much else. He knew about the team (most of this had been relayed to Peter a few weeks ago).

Dick seemed to hesitate, contemplating his options. "In a while…" he sighed. "What do you an to know?"

Peter sat up, surprised. "Really?"

"Well I figured if… if we're going to be friends, mind as well tell you everything. I need someone I could trust, Peter, not someone who can't trust me back."

"Thanks…" Peter replied, truly grateful.

"Yes well… let's see. Superman, Flash, Wonder Woman, Batman, Green Lantern, Green Arrow… those are the main ones. And Martian Manhunter-"

"Martians?"

Dick grimaced. "Yeah… Mar's has aliens, at least they do in my world. Anyway-"

Dick explained everything to Peter; The Team, The Justice League; everything. Peter was amazed. It seemed his world was just starting out but Dick's world was far along with heroes and that business. He asked questions on heroes, such as abilities and Dick's relationship to them. Dick answered truthfully but hesitantly, as if everything were still a secret but he came clean, mostly. At the end (almost two full hours of talking) Peter knew practically everything. Dick had even told him of the missions that he and his team (though the _Atlantean _led) has been on.

"That's… wow."

Dick chuckled. "Yeah, Superboy had rage issues back then. Though, can't blame him, with his dads and everything."

"Dads?" Peter asked.

Dick gave him a sharp look. "Yes, dads. He's a clone, one of Superman and the other of Lex Luthor, I told you this. Do you have problem with two dads?"

Peter simply shrugged, implying he didn't have an opinion and Dick nodded, smiling. "Alrighty then, look I've got to go. I told Pepper I would be at her place… two or three hours ago. And I haven't called or anything, I better go pack up my stuff." The fifteen year old stood up. "I'll see you soon." He walked over to the window and stepped up on the windowsill. He paused, turning back to Peter.

"I've been thinking of a costume change…"

"Really?" Peter asked, "You just changed it."

"Just a new few ideas I've been thinking about, nothing I'm doing anytime soon. Just… I have a few ideas."

"Care to share?"

"…not really."

Peter looked away, rolling his eyes and when he looked back, Dick was gone. Peter smiled.

* * *

_**To be continued…**_

**I am so sorry! As a forgiveness gift, I willgive you a choice: skip two years in the timeline (EARTH PRIME) or allow me to write the next… ten chapters of it. Tell me in review or pm. As for the two dads thing, I can say Dick's: no idea what Peter's would be. **

**Again: I am so sorry!**

**DFTBA!**


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